


Love Out of Chaos

by mar_map



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Cas is Human, Dean is Emotionally Stunted, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, So are All the Other Angels, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 14:32:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mar_map/pseuds/mar_map
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam needs homework help, Dean likes to cuddle (although he won't admit it), John gets shot, Gabriel teaches Castiel to loosen up, and Balthazar likes to flirt. That's not what's important though. What is important, is that Castiel and Dean were always meant to be (even if the two of them have trouble seeing it at first), and though Castiel lost his family, another one just might have sneaked up on him while he wasn't looking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been written for the 2013 Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge on Livejournal. 
> 
> I'd like to thank everyone who made this fic possible! I'd especially like to thank tipsy_kitty and moondansr over on livejournal for their support. They were both able to step in at the last minute to help, and I really can't thank them enough! Tipsy_kitty helped to beta this piece at the last minute, helping to carefully pick through the errors and plot holes.
> 
> All the lovely art is courtesy of moondansr!
> 
> Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy! ^^

In Castiel’s nightmares, he remembers the thunder first.  It roars in his mind just as loud as the chainsaw his father had been using that morning to cut down the decaying oak tree in the front lawn.  Then the hushed whispers of, “Stay down, Castiel. Be quiet. Don’t look,” as Anna pushed him into her closet and buried him under a pile of her clothes.  Then there’s nothing but unsettling quiet until Anna’s bedroom door clicked shut with a finality that left Castiel shaking.

 

“Castiel,” a voice calls out after that.  It is muffled by the walls separating them and the clothes piled over his head.  Thunder rumbles somewhere off in the distance.  “Castiel, why are you hiding?  I’m not going to hurt you.”

 

“Castiel?  Castiel?”  He jolted awake with a start.  His shirt was drenched, and he could feel his hair clinging to his forehead.  “Hey, boy, it’s all right.”  John Winchester was standing at the side of Castiel’s bed, looking concerned.  He ran a hand through Castiel’s matted hair gently.

 

“Hello, Mr. Winchester,” Castiel all but squeaked.  He rubbed his hands against the white hospital sheets to dry them.

 

“Just John, okay?” he answered.  “Feeling all right?”  Castiel just nodded.  He could still hear the sound of footsteps outside the door.  “The doc said we’re all ready to check out whenever you feel up to it.”  John set down a duffel bag that Castiel didn’t recognize on the foot of the bed.  “I brought you some clothes.  I’ll leave you to change.  Come out whenever you’re ready.”

 

Castiel just nodded.  He watched John shut the blinds for his privacy before leaving the room.  John sent him a final smile of reassurance before the door clicked shut behind him.

 

Castiel allowed himself some time to take deep breaths to calm his thundering heart.  He threw his legs over the side of the bed and placed his bare feet solidly on the tile floor.  It felt cold after the constant warmth of the sheets.

 

As he opened the duffel, he examined the clothes John had brought for him: a white button-down and slacks.  A generic set of clothes from Castiel’s wardrobe that wouldn’t dredge up memories.  Castiel brought them up to his nose expecting the soft, comforting scent of the fabric softener his mother loved.  Instead he received a more summery scent that he could identify with John.  Obviously John had taken his clothes to his home to wash them. Castiel was surprised to find that the scent was just as comforting as the smell of home.  

 

Castiel slowly started to peel off his hospital gown.  It clung to his body from sweat.  He hoped he could take a shower after arriving at the Winchester house.  When he looked around his tiny hospital room that had been his home for the last three weeks, he was not surprised that he felt no remorse over leaving.  It was easy to walk out and meet John in the hospital lobby.  He lugged the duffel at his side and easily spotted the back of John’s head in one of the straight-backed, red chairs.

 

When he caught sight of Castiel, he set down the magazine he’d been leafing through and stood to take the duffel from Castiel.  

 

“Ready to go?” Castiel simply nodded.  “It’s almost time for lunch.  I thought we’d stop at a diner or something on the way home.”

 

“We should go to Biggerson’s,” said the boy who’d been sitting next to John.  He tugged at one of John’s sleeves in a pleading fashion.  Castiel recognized the shaggy mop of dark hair from the stories John had been telling him and the pictures John had showed him from his wallet.  This must be Sam Winchester, John’s youngest son.

 

“Is that okay with you?”

 

Castiel nodded.  He’d never actually been to a Biggerson’s before.  They were all over the place, but his mother had always been rather adamant about the good in an old-fashioned, home-cooked meal.

 

“I’m going to go over and check Castiel out at the desk.  Take him out to the car for me, Sam?”  He fished a set of keys out from his pocket and handed them to the twelve-year-old.  Sam nodded enthusiastically and tugged at Castiel’s arm so he would follow along while John went the other direction toward the reception desk.

 

“I’m getting a burger with fries,” Sam announced once they had left the building.  “Biggerson’s has the best fries, like, ever.”  Sam had a skip to his step as he traipsed over to the car.  It was a piece of machinery that Castiel was sure he should have been awe-inspired by, but honestly, he’d never been that kind of kid.  “Have you ever been to Biggerson’s?”

 

Castiel shook his head.  Sam clambered up over the front row of seats to slot a key into the ignition.  Castiel sat a little uncomfortably in the back.  When the rock music came on, Castiel winced at the volume.  Sam made a disgusted face before turning the dial to a pop station.

 

“Dad’s always listening to stuff like that,” Sam explained.  “Dean does too, but I don’t like it.”  Sam shook his head to accentuate what he’d said.  He climbed into the back seat to sit down next to Castiel.  “He won’t let me sit in the front seat either.  It’s something about me being too short.  I think it’s stupid.”

 

Castiel didn’t answer.

 

“I was studying for this dumb math test,” Sam continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary.  “I’m in advanced, but I just started and I’m trying to catch up, but everyone else is ahead of me, and it doesn’t make any sense.”  He pulled out the folder he’d tucked away at his side.

 

Castiel glanced over at the problems in the folder.  “I can help you if you’d like,” Castiel replied quietly.

 

“Really?”  Sam brightened and laid the folder between the two of them.  “That’d be great!  I never used to have to pay attention.  I used to doodle all over my notes.  Now I can hardly keep up.”

 

When John reached the Impala, Castiel was teaching Sam shortcuts to solve the problems to his math homework.  He smiled.  Sam always did seem to bring the best out of other people.  It was a big part of the reason he’d pulled Sam out of school to pick Castiel up with him.  It had taken hours for Castiel to talk to John.  It had taken Sam a few minutes.

 

“Ready for Biggerson’s?”  John asked while shifting the Impala into drive.  He smiled back at the two through the rearview mirror before he pulled out into traffic.

 

It was a short ride to Biggerson’s, no more than ten minutes.  The ride was relatively quiet.  John was tempted to change the station from the crap Sam had surely changed it to, but Sam was mumbling the lyrics under his breath, and he caught Castiel humming along on occasion, so he opted not to.

 

Sam darted over to his favorite booth.  John smiled at his enthusiasm and followed at a slower pace with Castiel.  Castiel hesitated before sliding into the booth beside Sam, the least threatening spot.  It would be best to have only one person staring at him rather than two.

 

A waitress was over shortly to take their orders.  “A burger, get a burger, they’re great,” Sam whispered almost conspiratorially into his ear.  Needless to say, he ordered a burger.  Sam seemed delighted.

 

“Where’s Dean?” Castiel couldn’t help but eventually ask.  John had told him just as many stories about Dean as he had Sam, probably more.  He didn’t seem like the kind to let his little brother meet the new kid first.  Well, that, and he _was_ the same age as Castiel.

 

“He has a football game tonight,” Sam said, pulling a face.  “He can’t miss any school today, or he can’t go to the game.”  Right, school.  Castiel should have been in school today, except....everyone would have stared at him anyway.  Castiel hated when the other kids stared.  

 

  
“Soccer’s way better,” Sam added as a mumble.

 

“I think we all know which one comes out on top,” John said affectionately.  “Baseball’s the best.”  He reached across the table and ruffled Sam’s shaggy hair.  Sam let out an angry whine, batting at John’s hand until John laughed and leaned back in his booth.  Sam shot glares his father’s way, hopelessly trying to comb his hair down into some semblance of order.

 

He was quickly occupied when the waitress came back with their orders.  He dug into the food immediately as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

 

Castiel absently picked through the food.  It’s not that it wasn’t to Castiel’s liking or anything; it’s just that he didn’t feel much like eating.  He ate less than half the meal before pushing the plate away.  His stomach twisted with guilt that John would have to pay for the picked over food in whole.

 

“Food not good, Honey?” the waitress asked when she returned for their plates.  “Can I get you something else?”  Castiel shook his head and looked down at his hands.  “If you’re sure.”  She picked up their plates, balancing them easily with experience.   “I'll be right back with your check.”

 

When John had paid the bill, the three of them piled into the Impala.  “It’s a long drive, so tuck in,” John warned as they pulled onto the interstate.  Sam grumbled to himself when John turned the radio station back to his classic rock.  With the exception of the radio, the ride was quiet.

 

\--

 

Castiel could tell they were nearing their destination when Sam perked back up.  At the beginning of the ride he’d been working on the math problems he’d shown Castiel.  As the minutes passed by he’d become less interested, slumping further into his seat.

 

A sign whipped by welcoming them to Lawrence.  Castiel watched the small town as they passed by it.  The closer they came to the Winchester house the more active Sam became.  He gathered up his stuff and watched the neighborhoods pass by.

 

Eventually John pulled the Impala up in front of a two-story house.  The ignition clicked off, and Sam tumbled out of the car.  Castiel followed after him.  “You’re staying in Dean’s room,” Sam explained.  “It’s bigger than mine, and he’s got a bunk bed.”

 

“Show Castiel upstairs,” John said once they’d entered through the front door.  Castiel toed off his shoes on the mat before following Sam up the stairs.  “Come back down here once you’re done!” John called after them.

 

“‘Kay!” Sam called back down the stairs.  When Castiel looked around the house, he was reminded strongly of his own home.  It sent a pang of hurt through his chest.  Sam pushed open the first door they came to at the top of the stairs.  “This is Dean’s room,” he announced.  He bounced over to the bunk bed and flopped down on the lower one, which, Castiel noted, was a double bed as opposed to the single on the upper level. “Dean always sleeps on the top, but I’m sure he’d let you take it if you wanted.”

 

“No, the bottom is fine,” Castiel answered.  He saw a few bags lying in the corner.  

 

“Yeah, Dad’s been bringing stuff for you.”

 

“That was....very kind of him,” Castiel answered.  He went over to the bags to open them.  Most were full of clothes.  The last one - the smallest one - contained other things.  His cell phone and computer were both inside.  He found his favorite bible and rosary beads.  Finally, he pulled out a picture of Anna and Hester from the year before when they’d gone to the zoo.  Hester had kept talking about how much she wanted to go, but their mother had always said that they were too busy, so one day Anna had just packed up a car and taken them.

 

Unwittingly Castiel felt tears begin to fill his eyes.  He hadn’t cried once, not once since _it_ had happened.  Three days ago.  

 

_Three days ago_ _when he’d lost his family_.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey, Cas, it’s okay,” Sam said.  He seemed must have noticed how Castiel’s body tensed in grief.  “You’ll like it here, promise.”  He knelt down next to Castiel’s side and put an arm around his shoulders.  “Your sisters?” he asked quietly when he saw the picture in Castiel’s hands.  When Castiel nodded, a tear fell, marring the photo.  Castiel used the hem of his sleeve to wipe it away quickly.  “Want me to leave you alone?” Sam asked quietly.  

 

Castiel shook his head.  “I’m fine,” he replied.  He stood up and wiped away the few tears that had managed to slide down his cheeks.  He had to stay strong.  He knew better than this; Anna had taught him so much better than this.  He went over to the nightstand that Dean so obviously didn’t use and set the picture up on it.  Anna and Hester’s smiling faces would be there when he slept.  “John wanted us back downstairs.”

 

“Yeah,” Sam answered slowly as if he wasn’t sure that Castiel really was good enough to go back downstairs.  Sam pointed down the hall when they were outside Dean’s room.  “Mine’s right there,” he said pointing at the door down the hall.  “Mom and Dad’s is that one there,” he pointed to the room across the hall from his own, the only one on that side.  “If you need anything, you can always come talk or whatever.”

 

“Thank you,” Castiel said quietly.  Sam nodded and gave a small smile before going back down the stairs.  Castiel followed Sam through what he assumed was the living room and into the kitchen at the back of the house.  John was sitting at a wooden table reading a paper.  A woman was wiping a cloth across it in wide strokes.  Mary Winchester.

 

“Will Dean’s room be okay?” John asked when Sam sat down at one of the chairs.

 

“It will be fine.”

 

Mary smiled at him and moved around the table to pull Castiel into a surprised hug.  “I hope you’ll be comfortable here,” she said quietly to him. “If you need anything you just say something.”  Castiel nodded and watched her move toward the oven.  He turned to John, who was talking with Sam.

 

“‘Find the stuff I brought for you?” John asked, turning his attention back to Castiel.  “I wasn’t sure what you might want so I just brought a little of everything.  I’ll be back up in the morning, so if you need anything just make me a list.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“It’s no trouble,” Mary answered for her husband.  She shut the oven door before turning to finish cleaning the table.  “I made some pie, but it’s not done yet.  It should be soon.”

 

“Don’t let Dean see it.  He’ll eat it before anyone else gets a chance.”

 

“Sam, could you go in the other room, turn on the TV or something?” John asked. When Sam didn’t immediately answer, John repeated, “Sam?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, okay.”  He pushed back the chair, causing the legs to scrape against the floor.  Once Sam was gone, Castiel felt truly uncomfortable, as nervous as he’d been his first day in the hospital.

 

 

“Why don’t you take a seat?”  John pulled out the chair next to himself.  Castiel nervously sat down.  Mary came to sit across the table.  Castiel avoided both their gazes.  “We’re going to need you to start seeing a counselor, Castiel; it’s just general routine stuff.  It’s required for everyone in your position.  I understand this is going to be hard for a while.  When you need to talk, all you have to do is ask.  Don’t try to cover it up; that’s just about the worst thing you could do.”

 

Mary reached across the space between them and laid a comforting hand on Castiel’s shoulder.  “We want you to feel at home here too, Castiel.  If there’s anything that you want, just say so.  You’re welcome here as long as you want.”  She smiled at him, but he kept his eyes averted.  

 

“I understand.”

 

“Why don’t you go into the other room and find Sam?”  John suggested.  

 

Castiel walked into the living room and allowed his mind to be numbed by the mindless television drama.  

 

\--

 

Castiel was just sitting down to dinner with the Winchesters when he finally met Dean.  Mary had prepared a large home-cooked meal like his sister always made.  It smelled absolutely delicious.  Castiel didn’t have the appetite to touch any of it.

 

The front door slammed as Mary sat down.  Castiel couldn’t help but flinch at the sound.  “I wondered what was taking him so long,” Mary said.  She picked up the nearest bowl and handed it across the table to John’s waiting hands.

 

“I thought he had a game,” Sam replied.  He pulled the platter of fried chicken to himself and started picking out the pieces he wanted.

 

“The weather wasn’t looking good so it was cancelled,” John answered.  “We’re in a storm warning.  They didn’t want to risk the bleachers or anything else being hit by lightning.”

 

“It’s not even that bad out,” Dean grumbled on his way into the room.  He was still in his red football jersey.  His hair was slicked back from the rain but the tips had begun to dry.  Going by his hair and complexion he took after Mary while Sam’s shaggy, dark hair was more like John’s.

 

“Dean, this is Castiel,” John said when he paused in the doorway.

 

“Right, Cas,” Dean answered.  Castiel looked down.  His fingers fiddled absently with the tablecloth.  Apparently - if his tone was anything to go by - Dean had forgotten about him coming to stay with them.  Dean walked over and pulled out the empty chair across from him and Sam.  “How’d you like my room?” Castiel could feel Dean’s eyes on him, but he didn’t dare look up.  He could feel an uncertain blush rising up his neck.

 

There was a thud from under the table that had Dean grimacing in pain and Sam glaring across the table at him.  

 

“It will suffice.”  Castiel chanced a glance up and noticed Dean cocking a brow at him.

 

“Be nice, Dean,” John warned.

 

“What?  I’m being nice!”

 

John just gave him a look that had Dean going quiet.  Castiel felt horribly out of place. “May I be excused?” he requested quietly.

 

“Of course, Castiel,” Mary answered.

 

Castiel pushed out his chair and left his dishes untouched at the table.  His chair scraped against the floor when he pushed it back.  He left the room in silence.

 

Before he climbed the stairs to the second floor, he heard a thud again before Dean cursed and Mary reprimanded him for the language.  “Sam started it!”

 

Castiel didn’t hear any more because he bounded up the stairs two at a time.  He pushed open the door to Dean’s room and actually took a look around.  He hadn’t really paid much attention to the room itself the first time he’d come in with Sam.  

 

Movie posters and football posters were plastered around the walls as well as a few inserts from Playboy magazines.  The room was rather immaculate other than that, though. Castiel figured that was probably more of Mary’s doing than Dean’s.  This would be his home for the foreseeable future.

 

He walked over to the lower bunk of the bed and sat down.  The cotton sheets were soft under his touch.  He looked over at the unused bedside table and picked up the framed photograph of Hester and Anna.  He ran his thumb over Anna’s red hair.  It glowed in the sunlight from the day.  Her smile shone out from the image.

 

Castiel didn’t notice anyone come into the room until the bed dipped next to him.  He quickly set the photo face down in his lap and hoped the wetness of his eyes wasn’t as noticeable as he thought it probably was.  

 

Dean tugged the photo from Castiel’s numb fingers.  He leaned around him and set the image back on the bedside table.  “I didn’t mean anything by what I said downstairs.  Just joking around.”

 

“I understand.”

 

“Yeah, okay.”

 

Castiel expected Dean to leave, but he didn’t.  He stayed seated at Castiel’s side awkwardly.  His hands fiddled in front of him before he reached out and set his arm around Castiel’s shoulders.  He jumped at the unexpected touch, but Dean didn’t move, and Castiel didn’t move, and it was kind of....nice.

 

Castiel didn’t follow Dean back downstairs when he eventually left.  Neither of them really said anything, but Castiel hoped Dean understood how grateful he’d been.  It was nice to have someone around who didn’t seem constantly worried about offending him or making him talk about his feelings.  Dean could actually make him forget that his entire family was gone, _dead._

 

Instead Castiel spread out on the lower bed with one of the books that John had brought for him.  Castiel didn’t really register what it was about.  He read without comprehending.  At some point he heard the television running downstairs, the sound coming up from the vents.  A few hours later he heard someone come upstairs and a door shut; Sam going to bed.

 

An hour later he changed into a new pair of boxers and slipped a beater over his head.  He took a good, long look at the happy photo of Hester and Anna before turning off the lights and climbing under the new sheets.  He shifted around a few times until he found a place where he was comfortable in this new bed and tried to sleep.

 

_The thunder is what jolted Castiel awake.  He glanced over at the clock.  3:00. Still afternoon.  He was sprawled out over Anna’s bed.  They’d both been doing homework for their respective classes, helping each other on occasion.  Apparently he’d fallen asleep at some point, and Anna had picked everything up and piled it nicely at the floor._

 

_Castiel sat up and rubbed at his eyes.  He hadn’t even realised he was this tired.  Anna pushed open her bedroom door in a hurry.  Her hair was wild, and she grabbed his arm when she spotted him.  He tried to say something, but she covered his mouth with her free hand, a clear signal to be quiet.  She pulled him over to her closet, “Be quiet, Castiel,” she whispered to him hurriedly.  She sat him down on the floor before pushing clothes on top of him.  “Stay down, and whatever you do, don’t look or move.”_

 

_Only the urgency in her voice kept him quiet._

 

_Then her closet door was half-shut and he heard the door to her bedroom clicking closed.  Castiel could feel himself beginning to shake.  The thunder was muffled under the layers of clothes.  Castiel dug his nails into the heels of his palms to keep himself from moving._

 

Thunder woke Castiel.  Lightning lit up the room from outside the window, and Castiel saw Dean standing over his bed.  He sat up quickly, breath coming in sharp gasps as he tried to even out his heartbeat.  “Whoa, there!”  Dean reached out and pushed Castiel back down before he knocked his head against the bed frame over top of him.  “Dude, you’re a mess.”

 

Castiel latched on to the front of Dean’s shirt before he could pull away.  He could feel tears still streaming from his eyes at full-force.  Dean sat down at the edge of the bed and uncurled Castiel’s fingers from his shirt.

 

“Hey, man, it’s all right,” Dean said in surprise.  Castiel could feel Dean tensing in his arms when he pulled the Winchester into a hug.  Dean’s arms awkwardly fitted themselves around Castiel, and he patted his shoulder.  Dean let Castiel pull him closer until he was practically sitting in Dean’s lap, head buried against his shoulder.  “Look, Cas, everything’s going to get better.  I know it seems like crap right now.  But it’ll get better.  My dad’s the best in the precinct.  He’ll make sure that bastard stays in prison for good, okay?”

 

Castiel didn’t know what it was about Dean’s words that had him nodding in agreement.  Maybe it was just because of how exhausted he was.  Sleep didn’t come easily when he had nightmares every night.  He laid his head against Dean’s shoulder and tried again to calm down his breathing.  Dean’s breath was hot against his ear.

 

Castiel flinched when the light came on in the room.  John and Mary both stood framed in the doorway.  “I got this,” Dean said quietly.  He rubbed a hand down Castiel’s spine.  John nodded and ushered Mary back toward their room.  From the hall he heard John telling Sam to go back to bed.  “Your hands!” Dean exclaimed when Castiel started to pull away.  

 

He merely looked at the torn flesh with detachment.  Old wounds had been ripped open and blood was streaked down his arms from the fresh cuts he’d given himself.  He felt a short stab of guilt when he noticed the blood had dripped onto Dean’s shirt.  Dean left the room only to return a few minutes later with a bowl of water and a wash cloth.  He pulled Castiel’s hands into his lap and began to wipe the cloth over Castiel’s palms.  

 

“How’d you manage this?” Dean grumbled quietly to himself.  Castiel hissed when Dean moved over a swollen area.  Castiel tried to pull his hand away but Dean held him in place until he was finished.  He used gauze and medical tape to close over the wounds.  “All right, I want to sleep.  Some of us have school tomorrow.”  Dean set the bowl and cloth next to the picture of Hester and Anna before turning off the light and climbing under the sheets and spreading himself out over half of the bed, taking one of Castiel’s extra pillows for his own.

 

“Dean?”

 

“What?”

 

“I thought this was my bed.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“But you’re in it.”

 

“Yeah, well, this way if you have a nightmare or something all you have to do is kick me awake or whatever.  I’d rather have you do that than start screaming in the middle of the night.  Seriously, Cas, you were freaking me out a little.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Nah, don’t worry about it.  It’ll just be easier this way.  Go to sleep.”  Castiel found himself nodding even though he knew Dean wouldn’t be able to see him.  Thunder rumbled overhead again, and Castiel tensed at the sound.  Dean shifted closer.  “I’m right here, Cas, nothing to worry about.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

When Castiel woke the next morning, he was alone.  He could hear a shower running somewhere in the house and the television downstairs was on.  Castiel stripped out of his clothes and changed into a set that John had packed in one of the duffels.  When he stepped into the hall, he was accosted by the scent of food cooking downstairs.  

 

His stomach rumbled, angry with him for not having eaten last night.  When he entered the living room, Mary was sitting on the couch while a news program played quietly in the background.  “Castiel,” she greeted him with a smile when he reached the bottom of the stairs.  “Did you sleep all right?”  She had to know that was a resounding no.  Though that wasn’t entirely true either.  He had slept rather well with Dean in the bed, which was an anomaly.

 

“I’m adjusting.”

 

“I know you are.  I made some pancakes; let me get you some.”  Mary rose from her seat.  The television clicked off with a small flick of her wrist on the remote.  Castiel was about to protest that he could certainly help himself, but honestly, he had no idea where anything was in the Winchester’s kitchen, and he thought it would be rather rude to snoop.

 

Mary pulled out a plate from the cupboard as well as some eating utensils from a drawer.  Castiel made sure to memorize where they were, in case he’d need them later.  He sat down where he had last night.  The dirty dishes in the sink made him wonder if John had already eaten and left.  

 

“Do you want anything to drink?”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

Mary nodded and set the plate, fork, and knife down in front of him.  She took the same seat she’d had last night as well to sit down.  “John went to your school and brought some of your schoolwork home.  You don’t need to do any of it if you don’t want to,” she assured him.  “We were thinking that in a few weeks, when you feel up to it, we would transfer you here to where Dean and Sam go.”

 

“I would like to start as soon as possible,” Castiel answered while pulling a few pancakes onto his plate.  

 

“Are you sure?  You’ve barely had any time off.”

 

“I don’t want time off.  I want to catch back up in my courses and stay on track with my graduation.”  Mary nodded, though she didn’t look so sure.  Apparently that was going to be a look he would be receiving often.  No one ever quite seemed to take him seriously.

 

A few seconds later Dean and Sam were running into the room - apparently racing.  There was a clatter of plates and silverware as they pulled the dishes out and seated themselves at the table.  They were arguing about something, but Castiel couldn’t make sense of what it was.  A fond smile placed itself on Mary’s lips as she watched them argue.

 

“Seriously, Sam, there’s no way you need that much.”  Dean began pulling the platter to himself while Sam kept trying to spear his second pancake.  When Dean’s hand touched the plate, Sam’s fork went for his hand instead.  “Hey, lay off!” he snapped while trying to avoid being stabbed by Sam but still make it out with the rest of the pancakes.

 

“Dean, there’s no way you can eat as much as you do and not be the size of a boulder.”

 

“It’s ‘cause I work out.  You should try it sometime.”

 

“I’m busying studying.  You know, actually _passing_ my classes.”

 

“I pass my classes!”  

 

Sam just snorted in response.  Either way they both were able to wrangle up enough pancakes for themselves and had set to wolfing them down.  Castiel couldn’t imagine eating half as fast as they were.  He watched as their meals disappeared before them.  Soon they were off and racing again, trying to gather all their things for school.

 

“‘Morning, Cas,” Dean said, finally taking a moment to pause.  

 

Sam ran into the room after him, blue backpack slung over his shoulder.  “Later, Mom,” he said, giving her a hug.  “Later, Cas.”

 

“I hope you do well with your homework.”

 

“Yeah, thanks for the help yesterday.”  Sam waved and started toward the front door, punching Dean in the arm on his way by.  “Hurry up or I’m going to be late, jerk!”

 

“Yeah, whatever.  I’ll see you later, Cas.  I’ve got football practice after school; you can come by if you want.”  Castiel nodded.  He’d never actually been to a football practice before.  He had played soccer his freshman year, but his parents had wanted him to focus more on his studies, so he hadn’t been planning on going out again this year.  There was no one stopping him now and wasn’t that just a horrible concept?  “Bye, Mom.”

 

“Bye, honey, and you be nice to your brother, okay?” she warned.

 

“I’m always nice.  Sam’s the one who causes problems.”

 

“Dean.”

 

“Yeah, be nice to Sammy, I hear you.”

 

\--

 

Castiel spent the day catching up on his coursework from school.  He sat curled up in the big chair in the living room while Mary sat at the couch with the television on or wandered around tidying up the house before the rest of the family returned.  For the most part she left him alone, making sandwiches for lunch.  

 

When three o’clock rolled around, Castiel asked for directions to Dean’s school.  Mary was more than happy to send Castiel in the right direction.  Before he left, Mary showed him how to find his meager list of contacts – herself, John, and Dean – in case of an emergency.  He stuffed the phone deep into his pocket so he wouldn’t lose it during his walk.

 

The high school wasn’t all that far away from the Winchester’s house.  Mary had given him the most direct route, and he easily followed her directions until he came across the old brick building looming in the distance.  He heard the bell ring even from the distance, releasing the students from their day of school.  He wondered vaguely how Sam made it home if Dean had practice after class.

 

Castiel walked around the pavement of the building toward the back of the school where the practice football field was located.  Students milled around, though by the time Castiel was there significantly less were loitering around. Many of them had needed to catch buses, others had raced out of the parking lot as quickly as possible.  

 

Castiel pushed open a gate to walk out onto the field.  Players were in various forms of dress and practice readiness.  Castiel sat up on the top row of the bleachers where he would have a good vantage point of the entire field.  There were a few other people there watching too.  Girlfriends most likely.  Castiel set down the book he’d been carrying on the bleachers next to him.  

 

“Hey, Cas!”  He looked up to find Dean jogging up in his direction from the school.  He pushed the gate out of his way and came over to where Castiel was sitting.  He plopped himself down next to him, smile beaming.  “Glad you could make it.”  He was dressed, ready for practice.  He slung his duffel bag down at Castiel’s feet.  

 

“Do you start soon?”

 

“Yeah, whenever Coach gets here.  Sam’ll be around sometime too.  He hangs around his school for a while and then walks over here from the middle school.  He doesn’t like watching the practice.  He says it’s boring, but he won’t ride the bus home either.”  Dean shrugged and kicked his feet up to rest them on the row in front of them.  

 

“How were your classes?”

 

“Boring, I guess.  Only reason I go is so I can play.”

 

Castiel felt his lips purse at the blatant disregard Dean had for his classes.  He didn’t say anything even if he didn’t agree.  

 

  
“Who’s this?”  Castiel and Dean’s gazes both looked up at the same time.  A few rows down another few players stood.  “Ditching us for someone else, Dean?”

 

“Nah,” Dean smirked and stood up.  “This is Cas,” Dean introduced.  “He’s staying with us for a while.  These are some guys from the team, Cas.”  Castiel nodded at them slightly.  He couldn’t help the apprehension that started to fill him.  “Victor, Alan, and Lee.”  

 

“Do’ya play, Cas?” Victor asked.

 

“It’s Castiel,” he corrected them, to which he earned a few raised brows, “and no.  I don’t ‘play’,” he answered.  

 

“Get down on the field!” a shout from down below called.

 

“Duty calls.  See you after practice, Cas.”  Dean’s hand pressed down on Castiel’s shoulder while he pushed himself up from the bleachers and followed the others onto the field.  Castiel was starting to regret coming.  It had been something to look forward to all day, talking to Dean, breathing in fresh air, seeing more of Lawrence than just what he had through a car window, but now he wasn’t so sure.  Something about the other players made Castiel apprehensive.

 

Castiel pulled his book out and flipped to his page while Dean’s coach ran the team through some drills and talked to them about whatever it was football coaches talked to their team about.  Eventually he split the team in half, and they started a scrimmage down on the field.  Castiel set his book down and caught Dean waving up at him.  Castiel returned the gesture half-heartedly before Dean turned away and re-joined his team.

 

Not being one for sports, Castiel couldn’t quite follow the game.  He couldn’t really tell when something good or something bad happened on the field.  All he really noticed was that Dean was a dominating and aggressive player.  He could spot Victor as well, and it seemed like the two of them held a particular grudge for one another with the way they were competing.

 

The game went on no more than an hour.  The coach stopped them on occasion to give out tips or to praise a particularly well-played move.  Soon Dean was jogging back up the bleachers to where Castiel was waiting for him.  There was a smile on his lips, water bottle in hand, sweat beading out from every pore.  “Hey,” he panted.  “I’m going to shower quick, and I’ll be ready to go.  Sam called and said Mom picked him up, so we don’t have to wait for him.”

  
Dean smiled, dropped his water bottle at Castiel side, and disappeared to take his shower.

 

“Ready to go?” Dean asked after climbing back up the bleachers to Castiel.

“Yes,” Castiel answered.  He picked up his book while Dean slung his bag over his shoulder.  Dean waved down at the other players on the team before leading Castiel away from the practice field.  He and Castiel crossed the school grounds until they reached the back parking lot.  

 

There were only a few cars left and Dean led Castiel over to a red car with faded paint.  It sat low to the ground, and when Castiel sat down in the faded leather seats he felt like he was practically sitting on the road.  “Dad says I’ll get the Impala when I graduate, but he won’t let me drive it yet.  I’ve got this piece of crap for a few more years.”

 

Dean turned the key, and the engine rumbled to life.  The same classic rock that John listened to immediately picked up on the radio.  They drove mostly in silence on the way back to the Winchester’s house.  

 

“How’d you like practice?” Dean finally asked.  His hand stretched out to turn down the radio so it was easier to talk.  

 

“Your team is competitive.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean answered with a hint of pride in his voice.  “It makes us better players.”

 

Castiel just hummed in response.

 

“What’d you do?  Back at your school?” Dean asked.  Castiel watched houses pass by through the window.

 

“I didn’t play sports.  I was in chess club.  That’s all.”

 

“Chess club, really?  You’re such a nerd.”  Castiel turned to glare across the car at Dean.  Dean merely laughed at him.  “Just a joke; lighten up.”  Castiel’s gaze didn’t soften, but he turned back toward the window.  Dean pulled up the car across the street from the house and turned the engine off.  He tugged his bag out from the back seat and walked across the street, Castiel following quickly behind.

 

“Dean, Castiel,” Mary greeted them happily when Dean pushed open the front door and trudged inside.  He tossed his bag in the corner next to Sam’s.  “How was practice?” she asked them.  Sam bounded down the stairs and grabbed his bag before settling down in the chair that Castiel had spent most of his day in.  

 

“Like every other practice, Mom,” Dean answered with an affectionate roll of the eyes that only Castiel could see.  

 

  
Castiel walked over to the couch and took a seat.  He pulled his book into his lap.

 

Mary sat next to him.  “I went into Dean’s school when I was picking up Sam today,” she said softly.  “They are going to have your records transferred from your old school.  You can start whenever you’re ready.  They’re going to find you a place in the classes that are the most similar to the ones you are already taking.  They also said they’d send in the work you did today to wrap up your grades there.”

 

“Thank you,” Castiel replied, unsure of how else to express his sense of gratitude.  He really didn’t know how to tell her how good it would be to be doing normal things again like going to school.  He needed that normalcy back in his life.

 

“You’re welcome.  I’m sure Dean would be more than happy to show you to your classes.”

 

Castiel nodded, making a mental note to ask him about it later.

 

\--

 

After Dean woke Castiel out of another terrifying nightmare where he woke bawling and shaking, the sound of thunder in his ears, Dean slept next to him like he had the night before.  When they both woke up, they’d skirted around each other as they tried to share the upstairs bathroom between the two of them as well as Sam.  Mary had breakfast made downstairs that they ate at their own leisure.  Sam spent most of his day on the laptop he had bought mowing lawns during the summer with Dean.  Dean on the other hand played video games, occasionally asking Castiel to join in, or watching television.  

 

During the middle of the afternoon, Dean drove Castiel to his first therapy session.  Dean agreed to wait for him in the main lobby while Castiel was escorted into the office by the secretary.  He was rather apprehensive, but Dr. Naomi was calm, and while her overly cheerful voice was irritating, Castiel made no comment.  Her hair was pulled back in a bun, and her suit was immaculate.  She sat across from Castiel at her desk, clipboard in hand, but she never wrote anything, merely talked with him.

 

She tried to coax him into talking about his family, but when Castiel shut her down at every opportunity, she allowed him to talk about the Winchesters instead.  He talked about sharing a room with Dean and helping Sam with his homework.  He found that it was easy to talk about his time with the Winchesters.  Naomi didn’t talk a lot, letting Castiel take the conversation whichever direction he wanted.

 

Soon their hour was up, and Castiel had an odd feeling of release about the meeting.  Castiel was scheduled to meet with her at the same time every Saturday after that.

 

John didn’t return home from work until late that night, only spending about an hour of time with the rest of the family before heading back up to bed.

 

Castiel went up to Dean’s room not too long after.  He was just curling under the sheets when Dean came in and pushed him over, claiming that Castiel seemed to sleep better when he was in the bed, so they’d both manage more sleep if he just started out there.  Castiel felt himself blush in a bit of embarrassment, but he didn’t say anything, and instead moved over to make room.

 

\--

 

Mary woke them early the next morning by knocking on the door.  Dean grumbled but prodded at Castiel’s side until he finally blinked awake too.  “What?” he grumbled burrowing back into his pillow.  

 

Dean was standing by this time and reached across the bed to pull the pillow out from under his head making Castiel squawk indignantly.  “Rise and shine!” Dean sing-songed much too brightly.  “Mom wants us to get ready for church.”

 

At that Castiel raised his head.  “Church?”  Dean didn’t answer because he’d already left the room to shower.  Castiel sat up and rubbed at his eyes.  He hadn’t been to church since before _it_ happened.  Anna had always made sure that they all went as a family.  Well, at least the children.

 

With the door open, Mary stepped into the room on another sweep of the house.  Castiel had been able to tell that she was pretty, but it showed more so now than before.  Her floral dress swayed around her ankles when she walked and her blonde hair was curled and pinned behind her head.  “Good morning, Castiel.”

 

“Good morning,” Castiel answered.

 

“Is Dean the one in the shower?”

 

Castiel nodded.

 

“Feeling all right?” Mary asked with concern lacing her voice.

 

“I think I’d like to stay home.”  Castiel looked down when he saw Mary’s face fall and her brows knit in more concern.  

 

She came over and sat down on the crumpled sheets of the bed.  She put an arm around Castiel’s shoulders.  “Of course, honey,” she answered quietly.  “You do whatever you need to.”  Mary gave his shoulder a quick squeeze before standing up.  “I’ll have John stay home with you so you’re not alone.”

 

“That’s unnecessary.  I can handle being alone.  You should go as a family.”

 

Mary’s brows were still drawn together.  “Are you-?”

 

“I’m sure, but I thank you for your concern.”  Mary nodded and left the room to make sure that Sam was actually making himself ready.  Castiel pulled one of his textbooks off the bedside table from where it sat next to Anna and Hester.  He felt the familiar pang of misery at seeing the picture before he turned around and propped himself up with his pillows.

 

Dean came back in a few minutes later.  His hair dripped against the collar of his shirt at the tips.  “Mom said you’re not coming to church,” he stated.  “Not that I care or anything.  It’s not really my thing either.”  Castiel glanced up from his book only briefly.  “Mom seems pretty worried though.”

 

“I just - I can’t.  It reminds me too much of my family.”

 

Castiel could hear Dean pause from whatever he was doing.  “Yeah.  Okay.  Let’s go downstairs and play a video game or something.”  

 

“Won’t you be leaving soon?”

 

“Nah.  Mom doesn’t want to leave you alone, and I always complain about going to church anyway.  Hey, Cas,” Dean continued, sitting down on the edge of Cas’ bed, “let me see your hands.”  When Castiel’s brows knitted, Dean rolled his eyes.  “I want to check those cuts you gave yourself the other day.”  Castiel grudgingly set the book down before sitting up at Dean’s side.  He turned toward him and held out his hands.  “You probably should have left the bandages on for longer,” Dean said while carefully running his fingers over the half-moon shaped scabs.   “They’re healing though.”

 

“You seem to know what you’re doing.”

 

“Yeah, Dad teaches me and Sammy stuff like this all the time.”

 

“Well, thank you, Dean.”

 

“It’s no big deal.  Have you been sleeping better?”

 

“Moderately,” Castiel answered.  Having Dean nearby had helped to ease the nightmares.  They weren’t as deep or as vivid as they had been before.  “The nightmares have been better,” he clarified, “not as intense.  So, video games?” he asked in the hopes of changing the subject.

 

“Yeah.”

 

\--

 

The next morning Dean, Sam, and Castiel all piled into Dean’s car.  Castiel wasn’t sure how, but he had somehow lost the argument for the front seat, and was crammed into the back of Dean’s small car.  He didn’t actually mind that much.  He liked being able to sit in the back while the brothers argued over petty subjects, flicking through the radio stations until they finally found one they would both concede to, just in time for Dean to pull up in front of Lawrence’s middle school.  

 

“See you after school, jerk,” Sam said around a mouthful of toast that he had grabbed on his way out of the house.  Castiel had woken early from a restless sleep, and had needed to wake Dean so he could prepare for his first day of school.  Sam on the other hand had woken up just in time to shower and be downstairs.

 

“Bitch,” Dean answered affectionately while Sam slammed the door shut.

 

“See ya later, Cas.”

 

“Have a good day, Sam.”

 

Sam waved before finding a group of friends to sit with outside the brick building.  Dean watched for a second before shifting back into drive and heading toward the high school.

 

“Do you have a list of classes?” Dean asked when they were back on the road.  

 

“Yes.”  Castiel opened his school bag and pulled out his folder.  He pulled his class list complete with room numbers and teacher names.  He handed it up to Dean who scanned it a bit as he drove.  

 

“You have the same lunch as me,” Dean answered.  “That’s good.  You can hang out with me until you find other nerds to hang out with.”  Normally Castiel would have been somewhat offended by Dean’s comment, but he could hear the humor in Dean’s voice, and the way he glanced back at Castiel through the rearview mirror told him that Dean meant no harm by the comment.

 

A few minutes later they were rolling into the parking lot.  Dean shut off the engine and climbed out of the car with Castiel close behind.  

 

“Looks like you’ve got Chemistry first,” Dean said, scanning his schedule more in-depth.  “Eww, you doubled up on Chemistry and Bio?  Really?  That sucks.  And Algebra II?  Dude, where are all the fun classes?”

 

“Fun classes?”

 

“You know.  The shop classes?  Or like art or something?”

 

“I plan to graduate early.”

 

“You’re only a sophomore!  Sophomores are supposed to think about girls and blowing off class and sports, not, not, _graduation_.  Dude, you seriously need to lighten up and have some fun.”  

 

“I do not have time for fun.”  

 

Dean just rolled his eyes.  “Whatever, Dude.  I’m taking you to the next party I’m invited to though.  You need some time to let go.”  Castiel greatly disagreed, especially with everything that had been going on in his life lately.  Dean didn’t press the issue any farther, and instead he led Castiel toward the chemistry lab.  

 

  
“So the school’s pretty easy to figure out,” Dean explained as they walked.  “Art classes are down the left hall, shop and electronic classes are down the right.”  He led Castiel up a flight of stairs.  “Same goes for this floor.  The history classes are on your left, and the English and Spanish classes are on your right.”  They went up a second flight of stairs.  “The science stuff is on the right,” Dean said, going down the designated hall, “the math stuff is behind us.”

 

Castiel nodded in understanding.  

 

“Here, you go,” Dean said proudly.  “Mr. Newland’s chemistry.”  Castiel glanced inside the room only briefly.  “Then you’ve got statistics which is down the math hall.” He paused to look over the schedule.  “I’ll meet you there at the bell, and then I’ll take you to the choir room.  I have choir too, so I can take you to your next class when I’m done.  American History.  That class is awesome,” Dean said with a smile.  “I have it fifth period.  I’ll meet you there, and we can go to lunch.  I’ll show you around more when we’re done.”

 

“Where is my locker?”

 

“Locker, right.  The school doesn’t let you have bags in class, just a warning,” Dean said while they went back down the stairs.  “Depending on where your locker is, you can sometimes make it back to your locker after every class.  I just take whatever I need for my first few periods usually.”

 

When they were on the second floor, Dean led Castiel down the rows of lockers to the very end of the hall.  “296,” Castiel said when they came near it.  He had his folder out and was looking over the information sheet about his locker.  He turned the dial until it clicked open with a pop.

 

Castiel arranged his bag in his new locker.  He pulled out the things he would need for his first period class.  He shut the locker quietly - or as much as one could shut a metal school locker - before turning back toward Dean.  “Hey, my locker’s at the other end of the hall,” he pointed back the way they had come.  Castiel nodded and followed his roommate to his locker.

 

Dean opened it fluidly to reveal a space riddled with pictures.  It resembled the walls of his room, really.  Most of them were pictures of his teammates after big games, cheering.  He pulled out the things he needed before slamming the locker shut again.  Other students passed them in the hall, chatting in small cliques.  The bell rang just moments later, and Dean smiled at him.  

 

“I’ll see you after second period, Cas.”

 

He waved before heading down the stairs to his first class.  Castiel glanced around at the crowds of people before fitting himself into the line headed up the stairs.  He walked into the chemistry lab silently, finding an empty seat at the back of the room, and readied himself for his first class at Lawrence High School.

 

People attempted to make him talk to them through the course of his first period.  He never once made any indication of hearing them, however.  Their prying questions over his identity and where he was from and what he was doing made him all the more withdrawn.  The teacher tried to put an end to their prying and refocus their attention but to little avail.  Not that surprising.  It was nearly half-way through the school year, and they needed something new from the monotony of classes.

 

Castiel was dreading his second period which went just about as well as the first one had.

 

When the bell finally rang and released the class, Castiel waited anxiously for Dean outside the classroom.  It took Dean quite some time to arrive, but he was smiling brightly when he made it there.  “Hey, Cas, how was class?”  His arms were empty showing that he had stopped at his locker on the way upstairs.

 

“People do not understand the meaning of personal space,” Castiel answered with bitter distaste.

 

Dean laughed.  “Yeah, you have no room to talk, Cas.”

 

“What does that mean?” he asked as they set off back down to the second floor.  He glared at the back of Dean’s head as they navigated toward Castiel’s locker, so he could unload his things.

 

“Are you kidding me?” Dean asked with a laugh, leaning up against the locker next to Castiel’s.  The halls were beginning to clear as students arrived at their classes.  When Castiel gave him a look, he rolled his eyes.  “You’re always invading personal space rules, Cas, especially when we’re on the couch playing video games.  You’re always sitting _right_ next to me.  I mean, whatever, I’m just saying.  Like now,” he said, indicating with his fingers the few inches between them.

 

Castiel felt a blush creeping up over the way he had gravitated close to Dean’s side.  

 

“Let’s go.”

 

\--

 

“How was your first day of school?” Mary asked when Dean, Sam, and Castiel all piled into the house.  Their bags were each discarded in the corner while Dean and Sam raced to the television, fighting over the remote.  Castiel followed Mary through the living room and into the kitchen while they fought.

 

“It was acceptable.”

 

“Acceptable?  Well, I suppose it could have been worse.”

 

\--

 

The next two months passed more easily for Castiel than those first few days.  The ease of having a routine helped.  He still slept with Dean by his side - he’d tried to go back to his own bed, but they found out that that only intensified his nightmares - and they’d taken to playing Super Mario on Sundays when the rest of the family went to mass.  On weekdays he went to class with Dean - the rest of the students avoided him now when they discovered that he rarely talked, though he had made a friend out of a fellow student named Chuck.  He’d meet Dean at the practice field after class and talk with Sam when he arrived.  On game days he’d wait for Sam by the front doors, and the two of them would walk back home together.  On Saturdays Dean would drive him to a local therapist and wait in the lobby for him during his hour sessions.

 

All in all, Castiel finally felt like he was adjusting.

 

Until the day John walked in - earlier than usual - with a grim expression on his face.

 

When he walked in, Dean suggested that they go upstairs.  Sam agreed immediately.  Castiel followed them, unsure of what had caused the sudden change in the air about the house.  Sam stretched out on Dean’s futon while Castiel and Dean both sat down on Castiel’s bunk with their backs pressed against the wall.

 

“You should get a TV in here,” Sam suggested.

 

“Yeah, because I have the money for a TV.”

 

“I was just saying.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

Castiel looked between the two brothers who seemed unsure of what to do with themselves; they were just staring off into space.  A few moments later there was a knock at Dean’s door that had all three of them looking up.  John pushed open the door.  His tie was loosened and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone.  He looked tired.  Castiel noticed the way that Dean tensed slightly beside him.  

 

  
“Castiel, why don’t you come downstairs?”

 

Castiel glanced at Dean who just shrugged before he followed John back into the kitchen.  Mary vacated the room once they entered and shut the door behind her.  John sat down at one side of the table, so Castiel took a seat at the other side.  John was quiet for a few minutes.  Castiel began to feel anxiety well up within him.

 

“John?”

 

“You’re beginning to settle in?”

 

“Yes.”

 

John coughed.  “Uriel’s trial is in a few days; he’s pleaded guilty.  The prosecution would like to use you as a witness.  They’re going to want you to come to the station and give an official statement before the trial begins.  They’ll talk over everything with you.  However, you can say no.  You don’t have to testify if you don’t want to.”

 

“No,” Castiel said instantly and with a little more force than he had intended.  “I want to testify.  I want to make sure I’m there when it happens.”  

 

John’s brows were knitted in concern.  “You’re sure?  You said you were just starting to settle in.  I don’t want to disrupt that.”

 

“I need closure,” Castiel specified.  “I want to talk to him before the trial.”

 

“Castiel, I don’t think-”

 

“No, it’s not a good idea, but I need to talk to him.  I need to understand.”

 

Whether it was the determination in his voice or the idea in itself, John conceded.  “All right.  I’ll arrange everything.  They’ll want you in the station tomorrow; I’ll see if I can find a time to arrange a meeting with him while we’re there.”  John nodded more to himself than Castiel.  He stood and walked over to the fridge, pulling himself out a beer.

 

“Would it....I mean....”  

 

“Castiel?”

 

“Would Dean be able to come?”

 


	4. Chapter 4

Dean, Castiel, and John packed themselves into John’s Impala early in the morning.  Mary saw them off from the doorway while Sam slept upstairs.  He’d been angry when he’d been told that he wouldn’t be coming with them the night before.  Eventually he’d calmed down and apologized to Castiel and John for his temper.  Castiel just felt bad that Sam was ultimately being left out.

 

Castiel knew how much Sam wanted to help him, but there was just something about Dean’s presence that was calming to Castiel.  He was fairly certain it had something to do with being comforted the first night he had stayed at the Winchester’s house.  Somewhere his mind had connected Dean to safety.

 

And that’s exactly the comfort he would need.

 

“Winchester,” a man greeted only a few feet into the front doors of the station.  “Your meeting with the defendant went through,” he said.  He passed over a stack of folders to John as they continued walking.  “Thought you’d want to know.”

 

“Thank you, Agent.”

 

The man went in the opposite direction while John turned a sharp corner and brought them into an office.  Two desks sat on opposite sides of the room.  

 

  
“John,” the man behind the left desk greeted.  He was typing at his computer, but he had looked up when the three of them came into the room.   Recognition flickered in the depth of Castiel’s mind, but he couldn’t quite remember why.  “Hey, Dean, how’ve you been?”

 

“Our football team made it to the championships.  Our first game is in two weeks.”

 

“Sounds cool.  Good job.”  He gave Dean a pat on the shoulder as he walked around the desk.  Dean plopped himself down in one of the cushioned visitor chairs while John took a seat behind the desk on the right.  “My name’s Jim Murphy,” he said to Castiel.  “I don’t know if you remember me.  John and I used to come down to the hospital together.”

 

Castiel’s head turned to the side, and his brows knitted in concentration as he tried to remember Jim Murphy.  “I apologize,” Castiel started, “I don’t remember you.”

 

“That’s all right.  You talked to John more than me.”

 

The phone at John’s desk rang, drawing everyone’s attention.  The room went quiet when John pulled the phone from its cradle to speak into it.  He hummed agreements a few times before finishing with a quick, “Yes, Sir,” and hanging up.  He looked up while he set the phone back in the cradle.  “They’re ready for us down in interrogation.”  

 

Jim went across the room and grabbed his uniform off the back of his chair before setting it on his shoulders.  John went over to the coat rack in the corner and did the same.

 

“Are you ready to go, Castiel?” John asked.  He laid a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, and he noticed for the first time that he had begun to shake.  His fingers quivered, and he brought them together in front of himself to try and still the movement.  Dean came up on his other side and nudged him, a smirk playing on his lips.

 

“Yes,” he answered taking a deep breath.

 

John nodded while Jim led the way out of the room and toward the interrogation room.  “I’ll be in the room with you the entire time,” John assured Castiel as they walked.  “All they’re going to do is ask you questions and listen to your side of the story.  I can’t do the actual questioning because of my relationship with you.”  Castiel nodded in understanding just as they approached the room.  Three men were standing there, all in suits, waiting.  “Sir,” John greeted shaking a few hands.  “Castiel, this is Marshal Robert Singer.  He’ll be asking you the questions.”

 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said quickly.  He leaned in and whispered quietly, “If I stand out here I’m going to be able to hear everything.  Do’ya want me to go somewhere else?”

 

Castiel was taken aback by Dean’s thoughtfulness.  Despite prodding from both Dean and Sam, Castiel had said nothing of why he had been brought to live with them nor had John or Mary let anything slip about it.  It was quite the tightly locked secret, and Castiel knew that it had been driving both Dean and Sam crazy not knowing his background.

 

“No.  You should....you should hear.”

 

“If you’re sure.  Look, I’ll be outside the entire time.  Nothing to worry about, right?”

 

“Correct.”  

 

Dean gave Castiel a smile and another nudge before following Jim into the next room.  Robert Singer shook his hand before gesturing for Castiel to enter.  John was already seated in a far corner, and Robert took his seat between two men Castiel had not been introduced to. 

The two on the sides looked like younger agents.  Both of them had their hair styled perfectly back and were sitting ramrod straight in their metal chairs.  Robert on the other hand was older; his hair had begun to grey in certain places, and Castiel caught a certain haunted glint in his eyes that proved he’d seen more than the two at his sides.

 

“Mr. Novak, can I call you Castiel?”  

 

“Yes.”

 

“All right, Castiel, why don’t you tell us what happened on September 5th.”

 

Castiel took a deep breath to calm himself down.  He looked down at the hands resting in his lap.  He had begun to shake again.  He had tried to forget about that night by refusing to talk about it with anyone even if he relived it nearly every night.  Castiel glanced at the glass he knew Dean was sitting on the other side of.  What would Dean think after he’d finished his story?

 

Taking another deep breath, he glanced back up at Robert and the two agents at his side who were watching him expectantly.  

 

  
“Castiel?”

 

“I was in my sister Anna’s room,” Castiel began quietly. “Well, my adopted sister.  She’s the only full Novak.  The other three of us were all adopted.  I think we were only adopted to keep her company because our parents were never around.  Anyway, it was storming outside.”

 

_The last thing Castiel remembered when he sat up was that he’d been doing chemistry homework, and a frustrating chemical equation had begun to give him a headache.  The clock beside him read 3:00 which meant he’d only been asleep for a little over an hour.  He rubbed his eyes and noticed the books from both his and Anna’s classes piled neatly on the floor.  Castiel smiled gratefully for Anna not waking him._

 

_He reached down and pulled a few of the books back up onto the bed.  He opened one of them up just as the door opened, and Anna pushed her way inside.  He was about to say something, but she dashed to his side and put her hand over his mouth before he could._

 

_“Be quiet, Castiel,” she whispered to him hurriedly._

 

_She pulled him over to the closet, opening the swinging door before shoving him to his knees, one of her hands still partially covering his mouth.  She let go in favor of pulling clothes from their racks and hangers to pile over his head._

 

_“Stay down, and whatever you do, don’t look or move.”_

 

_He heard the door to the closet close again before he heard footsteps move to her door.  It was only the urgency in her voice that kept him from making a sound.  He felt himself begin to shake when he heard muffled thunder outside.  Something was wrong.  He dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands to keep himself quiet when he felt a whimper rise up in his throat._

 

_The door to Anna’s room opened and then quickly closed with a click._

  
  


_Silence._

 

_Castiel quivered._

 

_Finally, after what seemed like hours, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.  “Castiel,” he heard a voice sing-song from outside in the hall.  “Where are you, Castiel?  I’m not going to hurt you.”  More footsteps.  A door opened down the hall.  His room.  “Castiel?  Why are you hiding from me?  I have something very important I need to talk to you about.”_

 

_Castiel heard movement then, a scuffle, his lamp falling over with a crash as glass sprayed against the floor.  There was a sharp cry before silence fell over the house again.  Thunder rumbled outside and for the first time Castiel noticed he was crying._

 

_He waited long minutes in the silence before finally beginning to move.  He began to peel the clothes away from over his head.  He walked cautiously into the hall and saw nothing.  “Anna?” he whispered into the silence.  “Anna?”_

 

_Nothing._

 

_Silence._

 

_Horror sank into him as he walked past the door to his own bedroom.  His fingers trailed over the banister as he walked downstairs.  He walked down the hall, through the living room, stopping in shock when he saw Hester on the couch.  Her body was laid out in a comfortable position, probably the one she’d been in when watching the television in front of her.  However, blood poured from a gaping wound in her neck, her crystal eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling._

 

_Castiel resisted the bile rising in his throat as he made a dash for the kitchen, pushing open the door and quickly calling 911.  He huddled against the island as he waited for his call to go through, listening intently for any sound of movement in his house.  What had happened to Anna?_

 

_“Emergency Services, how may I assist you?”_

 

_“I - I think someone’s in my house.  They’ve killed my sister.  I think they’ve killed both of them.  I need help, send help, send anyone.”  Now he knew there were tears flowing from his eyes, he could feel them as they dripped down onto his hand._

 

_“Sir, where are you located?”_

 

_Castiel quickly relayed his address into the phone.  Just as he finished, he heard a crash on the other side of the door.  He felt the phone clatter down from his hand, freezing when the silence reigned again.  He squeezed his eyes shut hoping that whoever was in the house hadn’t heard._

 

_“Castiel?” A voice called from the other side._

 

_Uriel?_

 

_The door pushed open._

 

_“Castiel, I know you’re in here.  Still trying to hide from me?”_

 

_Uriel’s footsteps echoed around the room, and Castiel’s head began to ache once again in confusion.  Castiel stood against his better judgment.  He could feel apprehension lacing his every movement._

_  
“Uriel,” he said before he’d taken a good look at his brother.  “What’s going on?  What happened?”_

 

_“There you are, Castiel, I’ve been worried.  We should leave.  Castiel, get your things.”_

 

_“Uriel?” Castiel questioned.  His eyes were focused on the knife held firmly in Uriel’s hand.  Blood was staining it.  There were large splashes of blood on his pants and raised and somewhat bleeding red trails against his cheek.  Nail marks.  As if Anna had scratched him during a scuffle.  “Why do you have a knife?  Uriel, where’s Anna?”_

 

_“I don’t have time to deal with this, Castiel.  Either come with me or stay here.”  A smile began to spread over Uriel’s lips.  “I suggest you make the right choice and come with me.”_

 

_Castiel reached toward the island and pulled out one of the carving knives from his mother’s block.  What worried Castiel more than anything was the fact that Uriel’s smile never dimmed.  In fact, he almost seemed pleased by Castiel’s choice._

 

_“I suggest you think about this, Castiel, you’re making the wrong choice.”  Uriel began to walk around the island in the center of the room.  Castiel’s eyes locked onto his every movement, as he went the opposite direction until they had begun to circle each other.  Suddenly, Uriel shoved the island out of the way.  Castiel grunted when it crashed against his hip, the hand not holding the knife immediately going to the injury.  Uriel chuckled.  “Changed your mind yet?”_

 

_Castiel shook his head.  “You killed Hester!”_

 

_“She didn’t want to come with me.”_

 

_“Did you kill Anna too?”_

 

_“I might have.”_

 

_“What about our parents?”_

 

_Uriel snorted.  “They were the first to go.  They didn’t care about us, Castiel.  They’re never around.  We’re just glorified housekeepers.”_

 

_Castiel angrily lunged in Uriel’s direction, knife held threateningly in front of himself.  Uriel’s smile widened until he found that Castiel’s knife had connected with his arm.  In a quick maneuver he slashed back at Castiel, tearing a cut through the sleeve of his shirt as well as skin._

 

_Castiel flipped the knife in his hand to find a better grip.  “I forgot that you’ve been taking fencing in your free time.  Consider this a test of how well you’ve been doing.”  Uriel took a few steps forward, unable to cut into Castiel again before he dodged out of the way of Uriel’s blade._

 

_Before Castiel was quite ready for it though, Uriel had stepped back into his space and rather than using the knife, swung his fist, connecting it solidly with the side of Castiel’s face and sending him clattering to the floor.  He barely managed to snatch his knife back up before Uriel’s shoe landed heavily on his chest pressing down and keeping him still.  Uriel bent back down, smirking nastily, punching Castiel a second time, making his head spin._

 

_Castiel felt Uriel’s foot leave his chest and land heavily on his wrist making Castiel cry out in pain hoping his wrist wasn’t broken.  He hadn’t heard any bones crack, so he considered that a plus.  Castiel felt his grip on the knife begin to slacken as Uriel pressed down.  Gritting his teeth, Castiel turned his body in on itself and pressed the knife into his other hand before plunging it into Uriel’s ankle._

 

_His brother screamed, furiously pulling away.  He fell to his knees, pulling the knife out of his flesh slowly, gingerly.  “That wasn’t very nice, Castiel,” Uriel growled.  Blood bubbled from the wound and when he tried to stand again, it collapsed under him.  “I’ll have to punish you for it.”_

 

_Castiel backed up, scooting as far away as he could, stopping only when he came in contact with the glass sliding door in the back of the room.  His hands scrambled for the lock, but even with the injury, Uriel was faster.  He hands closed over Castiel, throwing him back until he hit one of the legs of the table, grunting in pain, eyes closing as his vision blurred briefly._

 

_When Uriel limped nearer, Castiel struck out with his own leg, connecting with Uriel’s injured one until he grunted and toppled over again.  Castiel braced himself for the blade of the knife, unable to move, trapped by Uriel’s body, but suddenly the door to the kitchen was being thrown open as armed men rushed in._

 

_“Put down the knife!” they ordered.  Their guns were trained on Uriel, who was just beginning to stand again, hand braced on the top of the table.  Uriel grimaced, throwing the knife to the ground with a clatter.  With Uriel unarmed, two men rushed up on either side of him and forced his hands behind his back.  They pushed him away from Castiel who backed away immediately._

 

_“Hey, there,” one of the men said as the others tried to haul Uriel out of the room with the use of only one of his legs.  The color in his hair had begun to fade and his eyes crinkled when he smiled at Castiel.  He reached a hand toward Castiel to help him up, but Castiel lashed out, feeling a hiss push its way through his teeth as he pushed chairs out of the way to burrow his way under the table.  “Leave the room,” the man ordered._

 

_“Winchester, you sure?”_

 

_“Leave,” the man said again, voice steady before dropping back down to one knee.  “My name is John,” the man said softly, speaking only to Castiel again as the other men began to leave the room.  “I’m here to help.  Do you want to see my badge?”  Castiel felt himself nod.  John nodded back at him in understanding.  “I’m just getting my badge out.  Nothing to worry about.”  Castiel felt himself tense again as the man reached into his coat and pulled out his badge.  He flipped it open and slid it across the floor toward Castiel who picked it up before it reached his toes.  He glanced over the title of US Marshal accompanied by the name John Eric Winchester and a photo that matched the man kneeling in front of him._

 

_Satisfied, Castiel slid the badge back._

 

_John glanced up at someone else in the room.  “We need to have you checked out.  Will you come out from under there for me?”  Castiel shook his head rapidly, eyes still blown wide in fear.  “You did really well here, Kid, but we need to make sure that nothing worse happened to you.”  Castiel still shook his head.  John sighed before sliding a chair out of the way.  “I’ll just have to come under there with you then.”_

 

_Castiel scooted back when John came closer until his back was pressed against another chair with nowhere left to go.  John put up his hands in a placating gesture until Castiel stopped moving._

 

_“How old are you?  You look about sixteen or seventeen.”  Castiel nodded slowly in answer, eyes darting to John’s hands when they moved toward his coat again.  “I’m just pulling out my wallet, all right?”  When Castiel nodded, his hands moved again, pulling out the worn piece of leather.  He flipped it open before sliding it over to Castiel.  “That’s my son, Dean.  He’s just turned sixteen.  He’s about your age.  He’s a good kid.  He’s always looking out for his brother Sam.  Do you have any brothers or sisters?”_

 

_Castiel nodded.  He swiped a hand across his face when he noticed he was crying again.  His body was shaking with all the turmoil of the day.  He handed the wallet back to John, the image of Dean’s laughing green eyes stuck in his head.  John smiled sadly and when he moved closer Castiel didn’t try to stop him until he felt the man’s arms tighten around him in a hug.  He set his head on Castiel’s and rubbed a hand over Castiel’s arm comfortingly._

 

Castiel coughed and glanced up again at Robert Singer.  He’d been staring at his hands for minutes, winding his fingers around each other.  “Is that sufficient?”

 

“That’s plenty, Castiel.  Robert looked down over his papers laid out in the folder in front of him.  “That’s all we need right now.  You can go.”  John stood and Castiel stood with him, both filing out the door.


	5. Chapter 5

Jim, John, Dean, and Castiel went to lunch after the meeting with Robert Singer.  They ate at the same Biggersons that Castiel had gone to with John and Sam after his discharge from the hospital.  Castiel had more of an appetite this time around and actually found himself enjoying the food set before him.  Something about finally, _finally_ telling another person the story of what had happened that night was deeply relieving.

 

He had thought it would close him up again, that the people around him would look at him, treat him, differently, but none of that had come to pass.

 

“Enjoying your burger, Cas?” Dean asked.  Not that he really had any room to talk the way he was wolfing down his own meal.

 

“These make me....very happy,” Castiel finally decided on, smiling around the bread.

 

After they finished, John dropped Jim back off at their precinct before heading back out of town, toward the prison where Uriel was being held.  Castiel felt his muscles tighten in apprehension the further they drove.  The hand at his side fidgeted nervously, pulling at strings in the seam of his pants before Dean reached across the empty space between them and pulled Castiel’s hand into his own.  Castiel looked over at Dean in surprise, but Dean stared resolutely out the window and tightened his hold.

 

\--

 

Castiel was surprised when he realised the Impala was rolling back into Lawrence.  “There’s a prison here.  That’s where he’s being held,” John explained when Castiel finally built up the nerve to ask.  Dean squeezed his hand again and a few minutes later they were pulling into the prison’s parking lot.

 

Dean released Castiel as they left the car and acted as if nothing had happened.  There was a lot of badge flashing on John’s part as they went inside and set up a meeting.  Eventually they were led to a room, the door shut tightly.  

 

“Do you want us to go in with you?” John asked.

 

“He’ll recognize you, and he might not be so cooperative,” Castiel told John who nodded a confirmation.  “But he won’t recognize Dean.”  His eyes drifted over the other teen who looked surprised.  “I would prefer if you waited out here, John.  I am sure that Uriel will be chained and that there will be guards.  If I need you, I will call.  Dean, would you accompany me?”

 

“Uh, sure, Cas.”

 

Castiel nodded to the guard outside the door who opened it to the room inside.  Sure enough, there was a guard on either side of the door.  Castiel was surprised by how much this place resembled the one he had been in earlier with Robert Singer.  He paused for a second as he took in Uriel, who was chained to one side of the table in the center of the room.

 

Castiel stepped forward and took a seat across from Uriel at the table.  Dean shifted nervously for a moment before following suit, sitting down in the chair to Castiel’s right.  

 

“Castiel,” Uriel all but purred.  “I haven’t seen you for some time.”

 

“I’ve been busy.”

 

“And I’ve been in prison.”

 

There was a short silence.

 

“Who’s your friend?”

 

“It doesn’t matter.”

 

“He’s too young to be one of the puppets,” Uriel sneered.  Castiel saw the way that Dean’s shoulders tensed at the derogatory comment.  Uriel laughed when he saw the same movement.  Castiel’s hand shifted under the table to touch Dean’s knee until he began to relax again.  Strange that it was he who was calming Dean down and not the other way around.

 

“His father was one of the men who arrested you.”

 

“Tell me,” Uriel said, “what’s it like to be around so many mindless puppets all the time?”

 

“Uriel,” Castiel said warningly.

 

“You answer my question; I’ll answer yours.”

 

Castiel took a breath.  “They’re not puppets, but, to answer your question, I enjoy their company.”

 

Uriel snorted.  “They’re beneath you, Castiel.  You have so much more potential than they do.”

 

Castiel glanced to his side at the guards who hadn’t moved at all, either not paying attention to the conversation - though that was doubtful - or not letting Uriel’s words bother them.  They probably heard similar conversations all the time from other inmates.  Dean was tensed in anger.  Castiel cast him a sidelong smile.

 

“Perhaps,” Castiel answered evenly.  He was surprised at the calm in his voice.  He had thought he’d be frazzled when he met Uriel again, spoke to him again.  “Why did you do it?”

 

“Do what?” Uriel asked innocently.

 

“You know damn well, what,” Castiel growled, the first bit of anger starting to form in him.

 

“I want to hear you say it.”

 

“Why did you kill our family?”

 

“They were holding me back.”

 

“How can you say something like that?”

 

“You don’t get a question yet; it’s my turn.”

 

“You don’t deserve to ask anything of me.”

 

“Hey, easy, Cas,” Dean said quietly, now the calm one in control.  He reached across the space between their chairs and rubbed his hand softly against Castiel’s knuckles.  Castiel’s fingers had clenched into fists in his lap.  Dean coaxed them out until Castiel smoothed them down against his legs.  “Let him ask his question.”

 

“Your pet is cute, Castiel,” Uriel chuckled.  Dean glowered across the table at him while Castiel smoothed out his features further, trying not to allow Uriel to bait him any farther.  “Why did you fight back?”

 

“Because you just killed the rest of our family, maybe?”

 

Uriel chuckled, he actually _chuckled._

 

“What were we holding you back from?”

 

“I’m going to be a god, Castiel.  I had to purge myself of all things worldly so I could ascend to the next level.”  The way Uriel spoke was reverent, eyes glazed as if imagining it.  His eyes refocused on Castiel.  “I was going to let you join me, but you had to go and fight back.”  Uriel sighed as if the loss of Castiel was a great shame.  

 

Castiel stood abruptly, pushing the chair back from under him.  “I’ve heard enough.  I wish to leave.”  Dean stood up uneasily while Castiel marched over to the door the guards began to open for them.

 

Castiel could feel his shoulders tense when he heard Uriel’s voice behind him.  “Don’t I deserve my last question, Castiel?”

 

“No,” he growled back before marching the rest of the way out of the doors.

 

“Dude,” Dean said when the door shut behind them.  “He’s a dick.”  Castiel sent him a warning glare to keep quiet, and Dean’s lips immediately shut, and he even managed to look ashamed for the outburst.  He couldn’t deal with anything right now.  All he wanted was for them to hop back into the Impala and go home where he could lock himself upstairs in Dean’s room.

 

“You did well in there,” John said, clapping a hand on Castiel’s shoulder.

 

“Can we leave?”

 

“Yeah, let’s go,” John said, leading the way back to the Impala.

 

“Hey, Cas, the house isn’t far, let’s walk home,” Dean suggested when they broke their way out into the parking lot.  Castiel hadn’t even realised how far ahead of the other two he’d walked until Dean jogged to catch up with him.  “You look like you could use the walk.”

 

Dean really didn’t take no for an answer, and instead he led Castiel down to the sidewalk.  “It would be much easier to drive,” Castiel informed him.  He was startled to hear the own anger in his voice.  “I apologise,” he quickly amended.

 

“No worries,” Dean replied.

 

Dean reached over and caught one of Castiel’s hands, giving it a quick squeeze before seeming to realise all the hand-holding they’d been doing that day and releasing it.  If Castiel noticed him blush at the same time, neither of them said anything.

 

\--

 

Uriel’s trial was held two weeks later.  The entire Winchester family with Castiel loaded themselves up in the Impala and headed for the courtrooms.  Castiel was dressed smartly in one of his suits - and so was Dean, and if he found his eyes drifting over toward his friend a little more often than usual, he passed it off as surprise over the fact that Dean even _owned_ a suit.

 

Castiel found himself seated before an entire courtroom, telling about the dark day when Uriel had killed the rest of their family, and his eyes avoided Uriel’s lingering gaze the entire time.  When he stepped down from the podium, his entire being was engulfed with _relief._

“Marshal Winchester?”

 

John, who was walking in front of the family, leading on their way to the Impala now that the trial was over, stopped and turned toward the voice.  “And who are you?” John asked.

 

“Michael?” Castiel asked in surprise.  He hadn’t expected to see his cousin here, though actually, when he thought about it, it wasn’t really that surprising.  Uriel _had_ been their cousin.  When Castiel glanced over Michael’s shoulder, he could see Gabriel and Lucifer as well.  Raphael would have made the last of the four brothers, but he was, apparently, absent.

 

Gabriel waved when he caught Castiel’s gaze in their direction.  Castiel just smiled at him slightly in response.  All four of them were older than Castiel was, so they hadn’t spent a lot of time together as children, not to mention that they lived states away in Massachusetts.  Their parents had both died in a car accident when Michael was eighteen, and from what Castiel heard, Michael had taken on the task of caring for his three younger siblings.  That had been seven years ago.  Lucifer - who was the youngest - had only been thirteen at the time.

 

“Hello, Castiel,” Michael greeted him, before turning his attention back to John.  “I am Michael Novak,” he said, stretching out a hand for John to take.  “We’ve spoken over the phone.”

 

“Right,” John answered with a nod.

 

“As Castiel’s godfather, I would like to take this opportunity to bring him home with us.”

 

“Bring him home?” Mary echoed.

 

“Yes, and we have a long trip ahead of us, I would like to leave as soon as possible.  If we could only stop at your home to retrieve his things?”

 

“Yeah, of course.”

 

“John?”

 

John sighed and turned to Mary.  “I contacted him a week after Castiel moved in.  He told me he wanted to bring Castiel to his home to live, but I asked for some time until Castiel’s therapist gave the okay, and she has.”  When he took in Mary’s expression, he added, “He’s Castiel’s legal _guardian,_ Mary.  He has every legal right to move Castiel in with him.”

 

“But, John,” Mary argued softly, “he’s just beginning to settle in.”

 

“Not here, Mary.”

 

“Then where?  They’re taking him _now,_ John.”

 

“And they have every right to.”

 

“Did you ever think of asking Castiel what he wanted?”

 

“He’s not eighteen yet.  He belongs with his family.”

 

And that apparently was the end of the conversation.  John drove the Impala back to the house while Michael followed in a rental car with Gabriel and Lucifer.  It didn’t take them long to pull into the driveway while Michael parked along the street behind Dean’s car.  

 

“You’re welcome inside while Castiel gets his things,” John offered.  Michael merely nodded, and Castiel walked up the stairs two at a time in a sort of daze.  He hardly knew his cousins; what would it be like living with them?  Where would he go to school now?  Would Dean be glad to have his room back?  He hadn’t had a nightmare in weeks; would they start again without Dean at his side?

 

“This is so stupid,” Dean growled, slamming the door shut behind himself.  “You’ve been living here for months; what good’s it gonna do to leave now?”  

 

  
Castiel slowly started packing his things back into the duffles that had been hidden away in Dean’s closet.  Dean flopped down on the bed with his arms crossed.  “Mom’s about ready to cry already.”

 

Castiel glanced at Dean while he picked up his picture of Anna and Hester, brushing a hand over the glass before putting it into a duffle too.  “Why would she be crying?”

 

“She’s going to miss you, idiot.”

 

“Oh.”

 

There was silence except for the sound of Castiel packing.

 

“And will you?”

 

“Will I what?”

 

“Will you miss me?”

 

Castiel froze when Dean sat up.  They stared at each other before Dean finally looked away, rubbing the back of his neck with his head.  “Well, yeah, I guess.  We have been sharing the same room for, like, three months.  Sam’ll miss having you practically do his homework for him.”

 

“I help Sam with his homework,” Castiel stated matter-of-factly.  “You’re the one who cheats off of my work.”

 

Dean smiled.  “‘No idea what you’re talking about.”

 

“Right.”

 

Dean’s face immediately sobered and he patted the open space on the bed next to him.  “Come sit down for a sec.”  Castiel paused from his packing and did as he was told.  “Look,” Dean started rubbing a hand through his hair, “I hate these chick-flick moments, all right, but you’re going away, and I don’t know if I’ll see you again, and I just wanted to....So....I’m going to miss you okay?”  Dean leaned toward Castiel, placing his hand over the one Castiel had rested on the bed behind him, before he leaned into Castiel’s space and kissed him.

 

Dean kissed him.

 

Dean _kissed_ him.

 

On his bed.

 

When he was going away for maybe forever.

 

And damn did Castiel _like_ it.

 

Dean pulled away abruptly.

 

“I don’t - I mean -”

 

Castiel leaned into Dean’s space this time and placed his lips over Dean’s own.

 

“I’ll miss you too, Dean,” Castiel murmured against his lips.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Three days later Castiel had finally unpacked all of his belongings and settled into his new room in their two-story house just outside of Boston.  Lucifer had left the day before to return to Cornell University where he was attending school.   Raphael was away in New York where he was fulfilling an internship with some large company that Castiel could never seem to remember the name of.

 

Four days after that Castiel was attending his first day at a private school of his own choosing, paid for by Michael using the money from Castiel’s rather large inheritance.  Now that the trial was over and Uriel was sentenced to a life in prison, the entirety of the money had been turned over to Michael but would roll over into Castiel’s name when he turned eighteen.

 

Castiel couldn’t decide if adjusting to a new school this time was easier than the first time or not.  This time there was no Dean to show him around the campus or drive him home after football practice or introduce Castiel to his friends.  There was no Sam to help occupy his time or play videogames with or to ask Castiel for homework help.  Now there was only endless hours of studying.

 

Gabriel was the only reprieve really.  He’d drag Castiel away from his books on the weekends and take him to movies.  On occasion he’d ‘borrow’ Michael’s car and attempt to teach Castiel to drive, a skill he had never felt the need to learn.  Gabriel even went as far as buying Castiel his own computer - using Castiel’s own money, of course - to only be used for ‘fun’.

 

The computer hummed quietly in the corner of his room.  He never really used it, but the sound was oddly comforting, so Castiel hadn’t bothered to turn it off.  He kept it plugged in to the outlet and allowed it to run.  When it beeped at him one night, Castiel was more than surprised.  He walked over to the desk and sat.  The sound of some comedy sitcom was playing downstairs; Castiel could hear it through the vent in the floor.  

 

He clicked the spacebar a few times before the screen blinked into life.  A box in the middle of the screen was blinking and informing him that he had received an email.  He clicked the view option and was surprised when Sam’s name popped up under the sender.

 

_Hey Cas!_

 

_How’s your new school?  Did you make a bunch of friends?  You should join the chess club like at your old school.  Dad’s teaching me how to play, so we should play when you come to visit.  You’ll probably wipe the floor with me.  I’m not that good yet._

 

_Look you should call Dean.  He’s been a real jerk lately but I know it’s just cause he misses having you around.  He won’t admit that though so you should give him a call.  I think he’d like that._

 

Castiel stared at the message for a few moments after he’d finished reading it.  He wasn’t sure how Sam had found his email, but he had a feeling that Gabriel probably had something to do with it.  He found himself smiling regardless and typing Sam out a quick reply before shutting the computer lid and letting it go back to sleep.

 

Slipping back onto his bed he pulled the phone he’d been given by Mary off the nightstand and dialed Dean’s number.  Michael had paid the Winchesters so Castiel could keep the phone and all information had been switched over to the plan that Michael maintained for himself.  

 

It took a few rings before the tone stopped and a voice took its place.  “Dean.”

 

“Hello, Dean.  It’s Castiel.”

 

There was a slight pause before Dean’s voice was back on the line.  “Hey, Cas.”  His tone was softer.  “How’re you?”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“Good.  That’s....good.  I’m good too.  I’ve been....good.”

 

“I’m glad to hear that.”

 

Castiel heard voices distantly coming from Dean’s side of the phone.  Dean’s voice replied, but it was muffled as if Dean was covering the speaker with his hand.  “Dean?”

 

His voice returned quickly.  “Sorry, I’m just leaving the house.”

 

“Is that Sam?” Castiel asked.  Hadn’t Sam just sent him an email?

 

“No, it’s Victor.  We’re going to a party.”  Castiel couldn’t tell what it was, but Dean’s voice sounded odd when he said it, strained.

 

Castiel’s brows knitted in concern.  “Are you feeling all right?”

 

“Yeah, fine.  Look, Cas, I’ve really got to go,” Dean said when the voice on the other side of the line began talking again in the background.  Castiel could hear an engine rumble to life.  “I’ll call you later.”  

 

Castiel found himself nodding even though he knew that Dean wouldn’t be able to see him.  “All right,” he finally replied.  He felt his chest tighten at the thought that in a few seconds Dean’s voice would be gone.  He hadn’t realised until now just how much he missed being around Dean and talking to him every day.  “Have fun at your party.”

 

“Yeah.  Hey, sleep well, Cas.”

 

“Thank you, Dean.”  Because Castiel wouldn’t tell him that the nightmares had started again.  They weren’t nearly as intense as they had been before and most of the time Castiel couldn’t even remember the details.  He just had trouble sleeping through the night.  Something in Dean’s tone served to show that he seemed to know without Castiel saying anything.

 

The line clicked to silence.  Castiel set the phone back on the nightstand, and when he went to sleep that night, he slept through the night without any nightmares for the first time in a long time without anyone at his side.

 

\--

 

Castiel was grateful when talking with Dean over the phone became a regular occurrence.  After a few more months he even made a deal between Mary, John, and Michael for regular holiday visits to Kansas.  He spent his first Christmas there with Michael, Gabriel, and Lucifer.  They stayed in a hotel room not far away during the night while Castiel stayed at the Winchester house.  

 

The two families joined together during the day, watching television or playing video games.  Michael and John seemed to get along rather well while Gabriel and Lucifer both took a friendly liking to Sam who seemed more than happy about the attention.  Castiel couldn’t have been more pleased.

 

The first night of their three day visit, Dean crawled under the sheets next to him, and if Castiel had been happy before he was over the moon at that point.  

 

  
When Michael bought him a plane ticket to spend Independence Day in Kansas two years – and three visits – later, and Dean slept in the bunk above him, Castiel felt like a part of him was dying.

 

The next day Sam, Dean, and Castiel walked down to the center of town for the fireworks.  People were everywhere, but it was nothing compared to what Castiel had grown used to when he went to Boston with Gabriel or Michael.  That’s when he met _Cassie_ , the reason Dean had been keeping a sheepish distance from him this trip.  When Cassie kissed Dean during the fireworks display, and Sam rolled his eyes with a huff, Castiel felt happy for Dean because Cassie was friendly and didn’t let anyone push her around.  Well, happy was probably too strong a word.

 

When his senior year started during the fall, Castiel was more than focused on his studies.  He received a letter of acceptance from Harvard along with a _very_ generous financial aid letter.  Not that Castiel had ever felt the pressure from lack of money.  

 

Gabriel had insisted that they go out for dinner somewhere when Castiel announced his plans to attend Harvard.  Michael had been proud too - at least, Castiel thought so.  If possible, Sam seemed even happier for him than Gabriel had when he called him.  Sam told him about his own plans to attend Stanford.  He wanted to be a _lawyer_.  Castiel had a feeling he’d do fine there.

 

Dean and Cassie were still dating.

 

A few months into the school year Castiel found himself with a split lip when he was punched by Meg Masters for not having asked her to the homecoming dance yet.  The two of them had never really spent time together before that confrontation although she’d gone out of her way to sit with him during lunch and free blocks since.  Castiel hadn’t thought anything of it before then - really Castiel hadn’t been thinking about much outside of studying.  

 

Castiel had known better than to not ask her after that.

 

Somehow they fell into a sort of relationship.  He spent only slightly less time studying than before and Gabriel had taken to fitting in weird innuendos about the two of them during regular conversation.  Meg would show up at his house periodically and would insist they drive into Boston.  

 

She taught him how to be in a relationship, even if she was only in it because Castiel had been an easy target and someone who would understand the recent loss of her father and brother in a house fire the year before. He was hurting over Dean’s relationship with Cassie even if he wouldn’t admit that to himself.  But soon it wasn’t Cassie anymore, it was Lisa and Larissa and Beth.

 

Castiel started attending church again.

 

Dean started working at a garage after football season ended.  

 

John began coaching a little league baseball team, and Sam adamantly refused to help him.

Raphael never came home from New York.

 

When the summer came, Michael insisted that Castiel visit the Winchesters again before school started in the fall.  Dean was going to Kansas State, and it was going to be harder for them to arrange holidays.  Sam greeted him enthusiastically, just like always, toting around his Stanford things even if he was only about to be a sophomore in high school.  Castiel was suddenly reminded of Dean on Castiel’s first day of classes at Lawrence when he’d been told that sophomores were supposed to think about girls, blowing off class, and sports.  Not graduation.

 

When Castiel went upstairs to drop off his stuff, he opened the door to find Dean making out with some girl on their bed.  Castiel wasn’t really sure when it became _their_ bed and not _his_ bed, especially when it had been so long since the two of them had actually shared it.  Castiel hadn’t waited for introductions, dropping his suitcase by the nightstand, setting up the picture of Anna and Hester he always kept there, and hurrying downstairs to meet Sam.

 

He found out later that her name was _Amanda_.  He always knew distantly that he had no reason to be jealous, especially not when he was dating Meg, but he didn’t really care.  Castiel spent most of that trip with Sam, and if Mary sent worried glances at the distance kept between Castiel and Dean, she never once mentioned it.

 

When he came home from his week-long trip, he was accosted by Meg who he had - accidently - never informed that he would be taking the trip to Kansas.  They spent the night of his return at her place.  She’d put a movie into the player, but neither of them watched it.  

 

The touching soon went too far, and Castiel was pushing Meg away.  He informed her that he didn’t want to go ‘all the way’ until he was married.  Apparently their relationship couldn’t survive such a declaration.  Castiel never saw Meg after that.  Studying, once again, became Castiel’s main objective as school started.

 

On move-in day, Castiel met his roommate, an English transfer student by the name of Balthazar.  He was rather flippant about his studies.  Castiel wasn’t entirely sure why he was at Harvard to begin with.  Balthazar spent most of his time _not_ in class, but Castiel started to view him as a friend.  He became a reprieve from the studying.

 

Balthazar was the first person Castiel ever talked to about - what might still be - feelings for Dean.

 

Somehow, Castiel fell out of touch with the Winchesters.

 

It came as a surprise when, two years into his Harvard studies, he returned home for Thanksgiving, only to have Michael send him straight back out the door with a plane ticket for Kansas in hand.  Mary was overjoyed when Castiel turned up at the doorstep two days before Thanksgiving.  She’d fretted over him until John shooed her away, but not before patting him on the shoulder in welcome.  The noise brought Sam thundering down the stairs.  Sometime in the past two years he’d grown tall, towering easily over his parents and Castiel.  His hair flopped into his eyes until he brushed it aside, pulling Castiel into a tight embrace.

 

Dean arrived home the next day while Castiel was sprawled out on the lower bunk of the bed that he’d practically outgrow over the years.  They both froze for a few moments after Dean roughly pushed open the door and Castiel realised just how much he’d _missed him_.  Finally Dean broke the trance, dropping his small amount of luggage, and crawling over the bed until he was hovering over Castiel.  Pushing the book in Castiel’s hands aside, Dean pressed close until they were kissing.  Castiel really wasn’t sure what was happening only that it felt so _right_ and he’d missed this closeness _so much_.

 

Castiel slid a hand to Dean’s shoulder to anchor himself and couldn’t help but wonder; how many others had Dean kissed in this bed?  How many others had he pressed down like this?  Dean’s stubble ran across his cheek when his mouth moved away to kiss down his neck, shoulder, collarbone.  It wasn’t the smooth expanse of skin that Meg had been.  There were no long, dark locks of hair.  Castiel’s fingers ran through Dean’s short, blond hair.  He found that none of that really bothered him.

 

“How could you?” Dean whispered against him.  “Dick.  How could you leave for _two years_.”  Dean continued to murmur the words against his neck.  Occasionally he’d kiss gently or run fingers along the other side of Castiel’s neck.  “‘Thought I’d lost you.”  Slowly Dean began to pull away.  Castiel caught his collar to keep him from moving too far.  That seemed to please Dean who didn’t go away, instead settling next to Castiel on the bed.  Turning toward him, Castiel nestled into the warmth of Dean’s arms for the first time since Cassie.

 

Castiel was happy.

 

Castiel helped Mary make the Thanksgiving dinner while John, Sam, and Dean were all in the living room watching some sporting event or another.  Nothing that Castiel was interested in.  During dinner Sam kept throwing Castiel and Dean pensive looks.  His brows would furrow dramatically or his eyes would narrow before he pursed his lips and looked away.

 

He didn’t confront them until that night.  Castiel had just changed into a pair of sweatpants and one of Dean’s Led Zeppelin shirts.  Dean had stripped down to just his boxers and was spread out on the bed.  He was flicking through the channels on the television.  Apparently he’d finally taken up Sam’s advice on buying one.  Sam thumped on the door three times before pushing it open.  He seemed more than relieved when he spotted Castiel completely dressed and seated on Dean’s foton.  

 

“Are you two sleeping together?”

 

“Sam, what the hell?”

 

“Just asking.”

 

“No, we’re not,” Castiel answered calmly.  

 

“Are you dating then?”

 

“Sam!”

 

“What?”

 

“Not cool, Sammy.  Totally not cool.”

 

“Because I want you to know that I wouldn’t care if you were and that you could tell me.”

 

“ _Are_ we dating?” Castiel asked quietly.  Dean’s eyes flashed at him while Sam stared in some sort of surprise.  The stares quickly became too uncomfortable.  Castiel returned his gaze to the computer where he was composing an email to Balthazar.  

 

“I don’t - Sam, get out.”  Dean’s gaze had turned to Sam who looked angry at the demand but did as he was told without being asked again.  “Hey, Cas.”  Dean sat up and patted the spot next to him.  Setting his laptop aside, Castiel sat in the indicated space.  Dean leaned into his space until their lips met gently.  “So.  Dating.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I hate these chick flick moments,” Dean grumbled, but the words made Castiel smile.  “But I’d like to take you out if that’d be okay.  You can’t get all clingy though,” Dean added sternly.  “PDA is off limits.”

 

“I think I could handle that.”

 

It was really all just a fanciful dream though.  Two days later Castiel was back on a flight to Boston.  When he walked into his empty dorm room, he gave Balthazar a call.  His friend came over immediately with a comforting pat on the shoulder.  He told Balthazar everything that had happened during his Thanksgiving excursion to Kansas.

 

The next day Dean showed up at his door with a duffle bag and backpack filled with all of his important belongings.  Six hours later he’d received a call from Sam threatening him not to do anything to hurt Dean.  Castiel had a feeling he wasn’t joking.  Three weeks later they moved into an apartment together.  In January, Dean was officially transferred from Kansas State to Boston University after hours of prompting on Castiel’s part.  Dean had wanted to drop college all together.  He’d found another garage in Boston to work.

 

A year later John was shot and forced into retirement during a case.

 

Dean and Castiel stayed in Lawrence for two weeks to stay with John in the hospital and to ease their own worries over his health.  He was gruff and irritable but would live.  Two months after their return to Boston, Robert Singer showed up on their doorstep and tried to tempt Dean into joining the Marshal Service in the same department his father had been in.  With John in a forced retirement, he claimed they’d need another Winchester on the force.  Sam was dead-set on the law program at Stanford, but Dean was going to school because he didn’t know what else to do with his life.  He was a perfect candidate.

 

For the first time since Castiel had known Dean, he seemed to know with an unwavering certainty what he was doing.  He no longer allowed his studies to falter.  He lived for the future as well as the present.  Castiel was happy for him.

 

They were back in Kansas a few months later when Sam graduated from high school.  The ceremony was humble.  Sam gave a speech as the valedictorian and told them sheepishly that he’d been given a full ride to Stanford.  He seemed so happy, and Castiel knew that he deserved every bit of the money he’d been given.  

 

Dean graduated a year after that and it was the first time that anyone had come to Boston to visit them.  Their apartment was small to say the least so the Winchester family was staying in a hotel twenty minutes away.  Dean tried to convince Sam to stay with them where he could crash on the couch - Dean would never admit how much he missed having Sam around, but Castiel could tell, Sam probably could too.  Dean only gave up trying when Sam finally admitted that he was bringing his girlfriend.

 

Dean had pretended to be angry about only hearing about her then - apparently they’d been dating since before Christmas - but Castiel knew that he was pleased that Sam was bringing her to Boston.  He’d forced Sam to spill all the details about their relationship - how they’d met, how hot she was, would Mary approve of her.

 

Mary did seem to approve when they all met in Boston.  Her golden hair was curled nicely around her shoulders and her smile was bright when she was introduced.   _Jessica._  It wasn’t until John asked Dean when he was going to find a girl as good as Sam’s that Castiel realised that _they didn’t know_.  

 

“How could you not tell them?” The rest of the Winchesters had only left a few minutes ago.  The scent of Mary’s perfume still lingered in the room.  “It’s been _two years._  Don’t you think it’s a little bit important?”  Castiel was standing angrily in the doorway and when Dean came to stand in front of him, he took a step back.

 

“Of course it’s important,” Dean said in a placating manner.

 

“Then why don’t you tell them.”

 

“Let’s go for a drive.”

 

“No.”

 

“Cas, just - let me take you somewhere.”

 

Castiel agreed grudgingly.

 

The Impala pulled out into traffic and while Castiel looked out the passenger window, the streetlamps began to blur into lines of light.  “It’s important to me,” Dean finally said after long minutes of nothing but the sound of Led Zeppelin playing through the speakers.  The last few chords of “Ramble On” were dwindling into silence.  “You’re important.”

 

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

 

The lights were starting to fade into the distance as they sped down the highway out of town.  “I’ve never been with another guy before.  Look, Cas, I struggled with my feelings for you for a long time.”  Dean wouldn’t look at him.  “What if they do too?”

 

“Sam knows,” Castiel said quietly.  “He doesn’t care.”

 

“Yeah, but Sam’s different.”

 

“How?”

 

“He just - he understands.”  Dean’s voice was just a whisper when he added, “I don’t think Mom and Dad will.”

 

Dean pulled the Impala over on the side of the road well outside the city limits.  The headlights died when he turned the key in the ignition.  He sat with his hands on the wheel, facing forward as if the vehicle was still in motion.  Castiel brought Dean’s hands to his hips as he straddled his lap ready to kiss away all his worries.

 

They never talked about it again.

 

Months later Castiel was back on the Harvard campus.

 

It was rather quiet for only seven o’clock on a Friday.  Street lamps guided Castiel down the sidewalk - though he knew his route well - until he made it to the main road.  Massachusetts Avenue stretched out before him.  Castiel’s bag was slung over his shoulder, heavy with the amount of textbooks for his biology classes all crammed inside.

 

Just as Castiel was about to check his watch for the third time since arriving on the street, he heard the familiar rumble of an engine coming down the quiet lane.  He couldn’t help but smile at the much-missed sound of the Impala as it rambled closer.  He’d been without that sound for 17 weeks.   _17 weeks_ while Dean was down in Georgia going through his Deputy Marshal training.

 

The car pulled up along the sidewalk next to Castiel.  He could tell Dean had spent time painstakingly washing and waxing the Impala after arriving home from training.  Dean took the utmost care with the car, a gift from his father at his graduation, just as promised.  Dean leaned across the seat with a brilliant smile on his face to speak through the passenger window.  “Don’t you know that the streets of Boston are dangerous at night for someone as good-looking as you?”

 

“It’s a good thing I’m expecting someone then,” Castiel replied with a matching smile.  “He’s a US Marshal.  He’ll make sure the streets stay safe for someone like me.”  Castiel was pleased at the way Dean’s eyes sparkled in pleasure at his words.  Castiel opened the rear door to discard his bag before climbing into the front seat next to Dean.  “How was your training?”

 

“Intense and hot,” Dean smirked.  “And I was away from you way too long.”  His smile widened, and he leaned across the seat until he was in Castiel’s space, kissing him softly.

 

“That is something that I think we can both agree upon.”  Castiel pulled away somewhat and washed Dean’s disappointed look away with another kiss.  “Drive.  We can reacquaint ourselves when we are safely back at our apartment.”  

 

Dean seemed to more than agree and made quick work of traveling toward their apartment.  Castiel prayed a patrol car didn’t come by.  He was certain it wouldn’t look good on Dean’s record if he was given a speeding ticket only days after finishing his Marshal training.  

 

They made it to the apartment in record time and without incident.  Dean led the way to the third floor, fingers fumbling with the keys until he found the proper one to the small apartment.

 

“I’ve missed this,” Dean chuckled against Castiel’s lips.  His hands were already sliding under Castiel’s shirt while he kicked the door shut behind them.  Castiel found himself behind pushed toward the area of the kitchen.  He smiled when Dean grabbed his hips and set him down on the countertop.

 

“Shouldn’t we move somewhere else?” he suggested.

 

“Too far away.”

 

Castiel set his arms on Dean’s shoulders, Dean growling against his lips when Castiel wrapped his legs around his hips.  “Not here, Dean.   _Dean_.”

 

“ _Cas,”_ Dean whined back.

 

“Move to the couch for all I care.  Just not _here_.”

 

Dean grumbled, biting down on Castiel’s collarbone, feeling him stiffen.  He swiped his tongue over the bite a few times until Castiel relaxed again.  Dean pulled him into the living room and pushed him down onto the couch.

 

  
 “Better?”

 

“Much better,” Castiel agreed with a smile.  Dean returned it happily, pulling his shirt over his head before straddling Castiel’s hips.  “I missed you,” he said quietly, running his fingers over Dean’s jaw.  “And you need to shave.”  He smiled against Dean’s lips, running his fingers over the stubble.  He kissed down Dean’s jaw, hair prickling against his lips.

 

“And you talk too much.”

 

“You should find a way to keep me quiet then,” Castiel suggested.  Dean kissed him again, pressing his tongue against the seam of Castiel’s lips until he opened them.  Castiel’s fingers ran up Dean’s arms and down to the notches of his spine.  Dean quickly divested him of his shirt as well, hands freely tracing along Castiel’s body, making note of everything, hands following remembered patterns.

 

When the tips of Castiel’s fingers dipped just into the pockets at the back of Dean’s pants, he let out a growl, pressing down to grind their hips together.  Castiel gasped at the touch while Dean laved attention against the bite on his collarbone.  Dean’s mouth was working, his fingers slipping down until they reached the front of Castiel’s pants, fingering over the fastening.

 

“Dean, stop,” Castiel murmured.  He reached down and took Dean’s hand into his own.  Dean laced their fingers together and guided them up to rest next to Castiel’s head.  He pressed their hips together, grinding down until Castiel whimpered.  “Dean, Dean, _stop.”_  His head felt hazy with pleasure, but he did notice when Dean paused, squeezing his fingers.

 

“Sorry,” Dean mumbled.  “Too soon.  Not until marriage.  I know better.”  He rested their foreheads together, and Castiel looked at him, trying to catch his gaze, but Dean’s eyes were squeezed shut tight.  They breathed together in an attempt to regulate their heartbeats, breath hot in the small distance between them.

 

“I’m sorry,” Castiel repeated back, tugging his hand away and tracing along Dean’s jaw again.  

 

“No.  I know better.”

 

“I know this is the first relationship you’ve had to be abstinent for.  I’m sorry I’m making it difficult for you.”  Castiel’s eyes slipped closed when Dean kissed him, softly, the fire from earlier diminished.

 

“It’s not difficult when it’s for you.”  Dean nuzzled against Castiel’s cheek, making him chuckle at the feeling of the stubble tickling along his skin.  “I missed you,” he repeated.

 

“I missed you too.”  Castiel’s fingers ran through the short hairs at the back of Dean’s head.  

 

Hand on Dean’s chest, he pressed until Dean sat up.  “I say we order out.”

 

Castiel smiled.  “Whatever you want.  Pizza?”

 

“Pizza,” Dean agreed.

 

Castiel stood, kissing Dean before going into the kitchen.  He pulled the phone from the wall and dialed the number of Dean’s favorite pizza place.  The man on the other end told them their order would be there in half an hour or it was free.  Castiel thanked him, hanging up.  He was about to go into the other room, but he saw the message icon flashing an angry red.

 

He pressed the replay button.  Two were from Gabriel - the first about how Michael was a terrible brother and should never be trusted, the second about how - maybe - Michael did have his redeeming qualities and wasn’t as bad as first impressions made him out to be.  Messages of that nature were actually rather common from Gabriel.  The third was from Balthazar asking if he wanted to go out for drinks the next day.   Castiel smiled and made a mental note to call him back later.

 

“Who was that?” Dean asked, stepping up behind him and wrapping arms around his middle.  Dean trailed lips gently along the back of Castiel’s neck until he turned around in Dean’s grip.  He smiled and kissed his lips.

 

“Balthazar wanted to know if we’d be available for drinks tomorrow night.”

 

“Sounds good to me.”

 

Pulling away, Dean walked over to the fridge and pulled out two beers.  “I picked out a movie.  I thought we could watch it while we eat.”  He opened the bottles and handed one to Castiel.

 

“I’d like that.”

 

Castiel took Dean’s free hand and pulled him out into the living room.  He set his beer down on the coffee table and took Dean’s, placing it there as well.  Smiling fondly, Dean sat down, legs sprawled on the couch.  He picked up the disk Dean had set out, raising a brow.

 

“ _One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest?_ ”

 

“Hey,” Dean defended.  “It’s one of America’s greatest movies, okay?”

 

“Of course,” Castiel answered in a tone that clearly stated he was just humoring Dean.

 

Setting the disk in and clicking play, he brought the remote with him back to the couch.  He tossed it by their feet and clambered on, settling between Dean’s legs, using his chest to pillow his head.  Castiel ran his fingers in figure eights on Dean’s side while the movie’s opening credits played.  “Cas, stop that!” Dean swatted at his hand.

 

Castiel smiled.  “Ticklish?”

 

“No.”

 

Castiel replaced his hand and set out with the single intention of proving Dean was just as ticklish as he claimed he wasn’t.  Before he had nearly enough evidence, the doorbell rang, and Dean was pushing him away immediately offering to go retrieve the pizza at the door.  Castiel conceded with more than a little disappointment.

 

Dean came back just moments later.  He set the pizza down on the table, pulling the lid up and dragging out a slice for himself.  It took less time than it took for the pizza to arrive for the two of them to devour it.  Satisfied, Castiel laid back down against Dean, content to watch the movie.  He smiled when he felt Dean’s breathing even out as he fell asleep.  Castiel couldn’t imagine how tired he must have been from the drive.

 

Adjusting himself in Dean’s slack grip, he settled in for the rest of the movie only prodding Dean awake when the credits had finally stopped rolling.  Even then he regretted the action.  He couldn’t help but smile at the sleepy way Dean blinked up at him though.  “We should just sleep here,” Dean complained closing his eyes again and wrapping an arm around Castiel to keep him in place.

 

“If we don’t move now, you won’t later, and then you’ll complain in the morning when your neck hurts,” Castiel pointed out.  He drug his fingers through Dean’s hair, ruffling the strands until it started to stand up in a sexy, tousled sort of way.

 

“So.”

 

“I don’t want to deal with you complaining.”

 

Dean’s eyes opened slowly.  “Fine.”  Castiel allowed Dean up and followed him toward their shared bedroom.  The sheets and blankets were immaculate as Castiel always kept them.  Dean stripped down to his boxers, pulling the comforter back while Castiel climbed in on the other side.  “Yeah, this is much better,” he agreed pressing his chest up against Castiel’s back.  “‘Night, Cas.”

 

“Goodnight, Dean,” Castiel replied quietly.  When Dean’s arm draped over his middle, he pulled it toward his chest until his fingers smoothed out against Castiel’s chest.  He pressed closer when he felt Dean smile against his neck.

 


	7. Chapter 7

“Cas, Dean,” Balthazar greeted with a smile.  He was seated at the counter of one of their more frequented bars.  Castiel smiled and sat down on the stool next to him while Dean took the next seat over.  “Your training went well?”

 

“Yeah, I’m officially a Marshal now.”  Castiel could hear the pride in Dean’s voice when he said it.  He reached across the small distance between them and took Dean’s hand while he ordered drinks for the both of them from the bartender.  “No date, Balthazar?  That’s not like you.”

 

Balthazar shrugged.  “I’m sure I can find something.”  His gaze swept over the group of women on the other side of the bar with an almost predatory look.  

 

“Balthazar, we’re _right here.”_

 

“Lighten up, Cas,” Dean said nudging him just as the bartender came over with their drinks.

 

“Yes, Cas, lighten up.  Besides, I can’t just sit here and watch the two of you staring longingly into each other’s eyes all night.”  Balthazar smirked at Castiel’s indignant glare, but he sauntered over to the group of women he’d been eying.  Castiel turned his back to his friend to focus fully on Dean who smiled at him lazily.

 

Castiel opened his mouth to speak, but he snapped it shut when his phone rang in his pocket.  He muttered a quick apology to Dean who just shook his head and finished his drink before ordering another.  Castiel rarely had anyone call his cell phone.  The only ones with the number were family members, so it was even more surprising when he didn’t recognize the number.

 

“I’ll be right back,” he told Dean, before stepping outside to answer.  “Hello?”

 

“Castiel.”  He felt his heart seize up at the voice.  A sickness churned in his stomach.  After long moments of silence, the voice on the other end chuckled.  The sound sent a chill racing down Castiel’s spine.  It was something he thought, that he’d been _assured_ , he would never hear again.  “I can hear you breathing, Castiel.  I know you’re still there.”

 

 _Uriel_.

 

“It’s impolite not to answer.”

 

“How did you find my number?” Castiel finally demanded.  After his outburst, he forced himself to calm down, he needed to think rationally.  He’d gone through years of therapy to train himself to stay calm in stressful situations.  And, honestly, despite all the assurances, he had never really expected he’d never hear from Uriel again.  If he knew anything about his brother, it was that he was determined.  

 

“Harvard,” Uriel continued as if Castiel hadn’t spoken.  “That’s quite impressive.  You always were the smartest of us.”  Castiel was disgusted by the pride he heard in Uriel’s voice when he said it.  “It’s rather regretful that I’m going to have you kill you, Castiel.”  Castiel didn’t even flinch.  It wouldn’t be the first threat after all.

 

Before Castiel could growl back a retort, Dean was pushing through the bar’s doors.  His eyes were hard and at the same time glimmered with the faintest relief, and Castiel knew immediately that he’d found out about Uriel too.  “Cas, get off the phone, we have to go.  You can call back later.”  Dean paused for a moment, eyes narrowing.  He took in Castiel’s guarded stance, the angry look.  “That’s him isn’t it?  Give me the phone.”

Dean didn’t even bother to wait, snatching the phone right out of Castiel’s grip, a little more harshly than was strictly necessary.  “Listen to me you son of a bitch-”

 

“Oh?” Uriel rumbled in amusement, effectively speaking over Dean.  “Are you Castiel’s little pet?”  Uriel’s voice sounded quiet through the phone’s small speaker, but Castiel could still hear him clearly.  

 

Castiel saw Dean stiffen next to him, his unoccupied hand curling into an angry fist.  “If you ever come anywhere _near_ Castiel, I swear to you, I’ll rip your lungs out.”  The steel in Dean’s voice left little doubt for Castiel that he would try too.

 

“Tell Castiel I’ll see him soon.”

 

\--

 

“Are you going to finally tell me what’s going on?” Castiel asked in annoyance.  It had been three hours and every time he tried to talk with anyone, they ignored him or shooed him into another room.  He was a civilian amidst a house of officers.  

 

Dean had rushed him back to the Impala without so much as a farewell to Balthazar - not that it was high on Castiel’s list of thoughts.  When’d they arrived at the apartment there had been a police car waiting outside, and three officers outside their door waiting for them.  Since then, five more had arrived, and they’d all been collaborating about something in the living room while they’d shooed Castiel away to the bedroom for most of the time.

 

“Bobby called when we were in the bar.  He said Uriel had broken out of prison.  He was one of the first to hear about it, and that was less than an hour after it happened.”   Robert Singer had retired two years ago and moved to South Dakota where he was known to keep tabs on cases around the country.  “Calling you must have been the first thing Uriel did.”

 

Dean began stripping down to his boxers before sliding into bed next to Castiel.  When he lifted an arm invitingly, Castiel couldn’t help but feel his annoyance melt as he slid underneath.  

 

“We were both given security details.  We both have a single officer who will be with us at all time.  Three more will be in the apartment at all times in case someone tried to break in.  They’re on a night and day rotation.  They think the best way to catch him is to leave us here.  They’re pretty sure that this is going to be the first place he’s headed, which, you know, was kinda obvious with the phone call.”  Dean pulled Castiel close against his body.  “It’ll be okay.”

 

“I know,” Castiel said into Dean’s chest.  There was worry in the pit of Castiel’s stomach.  He’d fended off Uriel before.  He had few doubts that an entire team of law enforcement could easily handle him.  What did worry Castiel was how driven to his task Uriel was.  It wasn’t plausible that Dean and Castiel put their lives on hold during the entirety of the investigation.  Castiel had classes come Monday, and Dean would have to go to work sometime.  Castiel knew they’d run out of groceries soon too.  They’d be buying for two again now that Dean was back from Georgia.  

 

What if he caught Castiel unawares between classes?

 

What if he went after Dean instead?

 

Castiel didn’t sleep well that night, and, if Dean’s breathing was anything to go by, he didn’t either.

 

\--

 

When Monday came, Castiel wouldn’t allow them to keep him inside.  After quite a lot of arguing, the security detail finally relented as long as he kept at least one officer with him at all times.  Dean had tried to insist on coming along as well, but Castiel had finally convinced him otherwise.  He’d promised to call during his breaks.

 

Castiel was paired with a young officer who went by Rachel.  Her hair was pulled back behind her.  She was around Castiel’s age, and her presence went unquestioned by the other students at school.  Not that Castiel attracted a lot of attention to begin with.  Rachel quickly became a constant fixture by Castiel’s side.  She went with him everywhere during the day, only disappearing at night as he crawled back into bed with Dean.

 

Every night Dean would pull him close to his side and promise him that everything would be fine.

 

And it was.  Life went on like normal.  Michael and Gabriel found out about Uriel’s prison escape and left worried calls the first few days before Castiel was finally allowed a secure line to call them back on.  The officers insisted that it would be a risk to call on their landline in case Uriel was listening to it somewhere.  After the first week Castiel began to notice Dean’s restlessness.  The two of them hadn’t left the house together in quite some time, and the last time the two of them had been out together it had been cut short by Uriel’s call.

 

When Castiel arrived home after class on the third week, Dean was cooking in the kitchen, feet in constant motion.  A radio was playing in another room, and Castiel knew that’s where the rest of their indoor security detail was.  Rachel breezed past the kitchen on her way to join them after making sure that the door was properly secured.  Castiel took a seat at the island and soon Dean was setting an array of food in front of him, everything from burgers to stir fry.

 

“Dean?”

 

“I can’t just sit here all day!  It’s driving me insane!  I need to _do something_ , Cas, _anything_.”

 

“I know.”  Pushing away from the island, Castiel stepped into Dean’s personal space until Dean finally relented and let his hands settle on Castiel’s hips.  “I know.”  He ran a hand through Dean’s hair.  “Everything’ll be fine.”  Reaching up, Castiel pressed gentle lips against Dean’s, hands planted on his shoulders.

 

“That’s what I’m supposed to say,” Dean’s chuckled while Castiel nuzzled against his jaw, laying kisses along the way.  Castiel’s hands drifted from Dean’s shoulders to string through the short hair at the nape of Dean’s neck.  After a few moments Castiel sat Dean down at the island.

 

Over at the cupboard, he pulled out another plate and set it down in front of Dean.  He sat down on the stool across the island.  “We’re both going to eat,” he started, “and then send in the agents monopolizing our living room to finish the rest because you’ve outdone yourself.  Then, while they’re occupied, we’re going to lock ourselves in the bedroom for the night.”  Castiel’s voice dropped lower during his last statement, and he couldn’t help but notice the pleased spark in Dean’s eyes at the suggestion.

 

They ate in silence before sending in the three officers to finish off the last of the food.  Dean took Castiel’s hand when they were out of sight and pulled him the rest of the way.  When they’d safely entered the bedroom, Dean locked the door behind them before stepping forward and pressing Castiel into the sheets.  He climbed on top of Castiel, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor before meeting their lips in a kiss.

 

Castiel ran his fingers over the tight muscles of Dean’s arms.  He traced down Dean’s chest until reaching his navel.  A hum of approval vibrated against Castiel’s neck when Dean pulled his lips along the skin.  His fingers slipped under Castiel’s shirt until he lifted up so Dean could toss it aside with his own.  When Dean’s ran his hands down Castiel’s chest, he whined against Dean’s lips.

 

For the first time in weeks, Castiel slept through the night.

 

\--

 

Breath tickled along Castiel’s face, waking him up.  “Hey, Cas, you awake?”  Dean’s voice was soft while his thumb stroked along the skin just above the line of Castiel’s pants.  The room was dark, the black curtains keeping out all light.  “I need to take a shower, but you’re on my arm.”  Which was true.  Castiel’s head was pillowed against Dean’s shoulder.

 

Not answering right away, Castiel readjusted a bit, eyes slipping closed.  

 

  
“How about we have this conversation again in half an hour.”  Dean’s hand came up to run through Castiel’s tousled hair.  Humming in appreciation of the attention Castiel drew circles against Dean’s chest with the tip of a finger.  Castiel felt Dean press a kiss into his hair before abruptly dislodging Castiel from atop his shoulder and sitting up.  Castiel whined in displeasure as Dean pulled away the covers.

 

“You have school soon.”  

 

  
Castiel grumbled to himself as he set his feet on the floor to go about his morning routine while the shower started the next room over.  

 

He made himself a breakfast of toast and coffee before climbing into the passenger seat of the Impala while Rachel and Inias - Dean’s temporary shadow - both slid into the back.  It was the first time since the whole debacle had started that they allowed Dean and Castiel to go anywhere out of the house together even if it was only Dean dropping Castiel off at the Harvard campus.

 

The few weeks with no sign of Uriel had set everyone at ease.  An extra car followed behind the Impala full of more officers in case of an emergency.  It was unneeded, as they pulled up near the campus without any trouble.  “I’ll see you when you get home,” Dean said, foot still on the brake as he leaned across the seat to kiss Castiel softly.  Castiel smiled back at him before exiting the Impala just behind Rachel, who followed him the rest of the way.

 

It wasn’t until the very end of the day that anything seemed odd.  People ignored Castiel as usual.  Rachel kept her distance, but she also kept a close watch over him.  He went from class to class silently, paying utmost attention during lectures.  He called Dean during his breaks.  However, the look on Rachel’s face at the end of the day when he finally made contact with her was less than comforting.

 

“I’m sure that everything’s fine,” she told him when she saw his matching expression.  She immediately wiped all the worry away from her own face to school it into one of perfect professionalism.  “I’m just having trouble contacting our ride back to the apartment.  Why don’t you step inside while I try again?”  It came out as a request, but was obviously told as an order.  Castiel turned his back and walked into the nearest building.

 

Rachel was still clearly visible outside the door.  She smiled reassuringly at him before turning her back.  Castiel turned to find somewhere to sit as they awaited the security detail.  He took a few steps into the entryway surprised by how dark it was inside for the time of day.  It had been somewhat cloudy, but it didn’t seem to warrant this much darkness.  The only light to see by was streaming through the windows in the front doors.  

 

Castiel walked farther into the room and quickly realised that the other windows were covered in paper.  Everything from concert posters to club posters was papering them.  An eerie feeling crept up Castiel’s spine.  He pulled out his phone, eyes darting around the room wearily as he headed back toward the front doors.  The silence inside the empty hall was starting to seem ominous.  

 

When he heard Dean’s voice, he eased instantly before noticing that it was just Dean’s voicemail.  Surprise flickered through Castiel.  Dean always answered his phone when Castiel called.  Rachel walked in just as he was ending the call.  She seemed to notice the look on his face and paused.  

 

  
“Problem?”

 

“Dean’s not answering his phone,” Castiel replied.  His brows were knitted, and his head tilted just slightly as he stared down at the device in his hand as if it would suddenly ring back into life.  

 

“Everything’s fine I’m sure.  I’ve contacted the local police department to drive us while they attempt to make contact with the rest of the detail.  Dean probably has the TV on too loud and can’t hear the phone over it.”  Castiel merely nodded because while he didn’t believe that, he didn’t want to believe the more likely possibility either.

 


	8. Chapter 8

The street was calm when the patrol car pulled up outside of Castiel’s apartment building.  Castiel had tried again to call Dean’s phone but had been once more redirected to his voicemail.  Worry clenched around Castiel’s chest like a vice until he felt nauseous.  

 

Rachel left one of the men in the car and made it very clear to Castiel that he needed to wait until she came back for him.  Then, taking the other officer, the two of them went into the building cautiously.  Castiel watched as they disappeared from view.  He glanced up to their apartment windows.  Rolling down the window, Castiel let the breeze pull at his hair.  The sky overhead was grey, and the scent of rain was in the air.  There was a storm coming.

 

Minutes ticked by in silence while Castiel waited with one of Boston’s police officers.  He could tell that the man was on alert, the car’s radio transceiver was turned down to a quiet level, the voices a constant, low chatter.  The longer he sat in silence, the more apprehensive Castiel became, expecting the worst.  He knew as well as Rachel what no answer from Dean or the security detail meant.

 

When fifteen minutes went by with no sign from Rachel, Castiel snapped.  He pushed open the door before the officer could stop him and ran to the building, buzzing himself in.  He could hear the officer shouting behind him, following up the stairs and to the door of his apartment.  They both stopped at the entrance, the door open wide.  The officer pulled out his holstered gun while Castiel steeled himself against the growing nausea.  

 

Not three feet into the room, Inias lay dead on the floor.  Castiel turned his eyes away from the sight, unable to wipe away the image from his mind.  Being careful to step around the pooling blood, Castiel stepped farther into his apartment.  Every time he entered the apartment previously, it had felt like home, but suddenly it felt like a place Castiel couldn’t recognize.  The apartment was a dark place with more horrors awaiting him.

 

Only a few steps into the apartment, Castiel could see another puddle of blood waiting in the living room.  He didn’t dare let the thought cross his mind that it was Dean in there.  Rachel stepped in front of him from the hallway, lowering her gun when she acknowledged him.  She took him by the shoulders and turned him around, back toward the door where the other officer was, horror etched on his face.

 

“You don’t need to see any of this,” Rachel told him, leading him forcefully toward the door.

 

“Where’s Dean?” Castiel asked quietly surprised that his voice didn’t crack, not that he wasn’t grateful.  Louder he repeated, “Where’s Dean?”  He turned around until he was facing Rachel again.  “Did you find him?  Where is he?”  The only thing Castiel felt was that gnawing worry.  It overrode everything else he was feeling from the panic to the horror.

 

“It’s not safe here, Castiel.  We need to find you somewhere safe.”

 

“ _Where’s Dean_?” Castiel demanded.

 

“I don’t know,” Rachel admitted after a moment of silence.  Her voice was quiet and resigned, ashamed.  In Castiel’s moment of shock, she turned him back around and pulled him to the door where the Boston officer was snapped out of his own shock as he began to herd Castiel back toward the street.  Rachel stayed behind, rapidly speaking into the transceiver on her belt.  

 

Pushing out of the officer’s grip, Castiel went back to her side.  “What do you mean you don’t know?”

 

Rachel sighed.  “Go with him, Castiel.  We’ll tell you everything once the scene _and you_ are safe.”

 

“No,” Castiel growled.  “I want to know what’s happening _now._ ”  Last time he’d tried asking questions he’d been shut down constantly.  He wasn’t going to let that happen this time.  He didn’t even know if Dean was _alive_ yet.

 

Standing in the doorway with Rachel, Castiel noticed the whiteboard for the first time.  His head tilted to the side in confusion.  The whiteboard was hung on a string, nailed to the wall, on the left side of the entranceway into the kitchen.  There wasn’t anything extraordinary about it with the exception of the fact that it was there.  It hadn’t been there when Castiel had left for class that morning.

 

Rachel was still talking about how Castiel needed to go with the officer back to the car, but Castiel wasn’t paying attention anymore.  Instead his attentions were drawn to that simple whiteboard.  He stepped past Rachel and the body of Inias to stand before the board.  

 

He was reminded of coming home from school in Kansas with a short note from Anna on the whiteboard in their kitchen.  Sometimes instructions appeared about chores for the day, other times they were recipes for new meals or desserts, and on occasion nothing but a small morning greeting.  It was the way that he’d usually communicated with his siblings when they weren’t home.

 

The ink on the board was green, the color Uriel would always use.

 

_Castiel,_

 

_I came by for a visit, but Dean was the only one here.  We went home and will be waiting for you there._

 

_U_

 

Castiel stared at Uriel’s block handwriting for several seconds before Rachel stepped beside him.  She studied the writing as well before turning Castiel right around, taking him by the arm so that he couldn’t break free.  

 

  
“We’re going now.”  Castiel wasn’t sure when the other Boston officer had joined them, but he was beside his partner now as they went back to the street.  

 

The quiet street from before was gone, replaced by a street buzzing with activity.  Three Boston police cars had come to join the one that Castiel had arrived in.  Officers were out on the sidewalk, many with hands on their holsters while other were starting to enter the building and evacuate the residents while the investigation over the murders of the marshals in Castiel’s apartment started.

 

Rachel led a willing Castiel into the patrol car they had come in.  The other two officers were checking in with a superior officer while Rachel relayed the information she had to the same man once they had finished.  After a few minutes the three of them climbed into the car and drove to the nearest station.

 

Castiel allowed Rachel to guide him around silently.  She led him into one of the station’s interrogation rooms and left.  He sat quietly until Rachel eventually returned, but Castiel didn’t look up at her, hardly even acknowledged her presence.  He merely stared straight forward, gaze fixed at a spot just above the door.  Rachel sat at the table across from him, hands folded neatly in front of her.  

 

“Castiel, what did Uriel mean when he said he was going to meet you at home?” Rachel asked.  Her voice was soft, and she spoke as if Castiel was a scared animal.  Although that’s probably what he must have looked like to everyone else, staring across the room at a blank wall.

 

Finally he turned his gaze to her.  “I don’t know,” he answered, voice monotone.  That was a lie though.  He knew exactly where Uriel was, or, at least, where he was headed.  Kansas.  He was headed for their old family home there.  Castiel didn’t even know if it was still standing.  Last he knew the house had been abandoned when no one had wanted to buy it after years sitting for sale.  The story floating around was that it was haunted.  Castiel had never stepped foot in the house since the day John had led him out.

 

Something held Castiel from saying any of that to Rachel.  He leveled his gaze on hers, but couldn’t force the words out.

 

Instead, he said, “I want to call my family.”

 

For a long moment Rachel was quiet.  In the end, she nodded an acknowledgement and took Castiel to another room, a red phone hooked up to the wall.  “I understand why you need to call them,” Rachel said, “but time is the most important thing right now to save Dean.”

 

Castiel nodded in understanding and waited for her to leave before pulling the phone from the cradle and dialing Gabriel’s number.  The phone’s ring filled the silence of the room, and Castiel thought it was going to send him to the answering machine.  “My time’s more important than your time; talk fast.”  For the first time since finding the message board in the apartment, Castiel felt an overwhelming rush of emotion, of relief.

 

“It’s Castiel.”

 

“Cas!” Gabriel’s voice was just short of exuberant.  “Have you been ignoring my calls?  It feels like we haven’t talked in centuries!”  Castiel wanted to smile.  He could just feel the beginnings of one tugging at the corners of his lips, but then he thought of Dean, of Uriel, and the feeling was immediately squashed.  When Castiel didn’t answer, Gabriel’s tone sobered up.  “You okay?”

 

“Where’s Michael?”

 

“What?  Don’t you want to talk to me?” Gabriel’s voice feigned hurt, as he added, “I’m cooler than he is.”  Castiel didn’t reply right away for a second time, and Gabriel sighed in mock irritation.  “He’s in the kitchen.  Want me to get him?”

 

Another calming wave of relief washed over Castiel.  “No.  I was just checking.”

 

Voice serious for the first time during the conversation, Gabriel asked, “Cas, is everything okay?  Seriously?”

 

“Uriel’s escaped from prison.  He took Dean with him back to Kansas after he broke into our apartment.”

 

After long moments of silence, Gabriel asked, “When are you leaving?”

 

“What?” Because of everything he expected Gabriel to say, that wasn’t it.

 

“When are you leaving for Kansas?  C’mon, Cas, you can’t tell me you’re just going to let the police swarm up there without you.  You’re the one Uriel’s going to want to talk too.  He might not even talk to any of the police when they get there.”

 

“You’re right.”  And he was.  Castiel knew what he needed to do.  “Thank you, Gabriel.”

 

“No problem, kiddo.  Just be careful.”

 

“I will.”

Castiel hung the tacky red phone back up.  He glanced around the bare room, the coldness of the building creeping in on him.  Talking with Gabriel always seemed to be an enlightening experience, and this time it had proven no different.  Gabriel had been right when he said that Uriel probably wouldn’t deal with any police that swarmed the house.  He might even kill Dean in anger.  Anything was possible really.  But Castiel he would talk to, might even reason with, and if not, well, Castiel had stopped him once.

 

\--

 

It was really much too easy to sneak out of the police station.  It probably should have worried him how simple it was to slip out a side door, but it actually proved useful in the situation.  Besides, everyone was too busy worrying about the murder of the marshals to pay any attention to Castiel.  He didn’t even bother to avoid the main streets of Boston, even though when he was found missing the police would immediately be on the search.  While he’d been in the station, night had fallen, and it helped cloak him.

 

An hour passed while Castiel walked back to the apartment.  He never once heard sirens or saw flashing lights until he came a few streets away from the crime scene.  Thankfully, that’s not where he was headed for directly.  A block away he stopped by the parked Impala.  He went around to the trunk and pulled out the spare coat he kept there.  

 

He was eternally grateful that he always carried his set of keys in his pocket.  He pulled away from the curb and drove out of town, headed for Kansas.  Dean’s favorite Metallica tape was in the player, and Castiel didn’t have the heart to turn if off or even turn the volume down.  Instead he let the sound comfort him during the drive.

 

Just on the outskirts of Cleveland, he forced himself to stop, having driven all night.  He’d been awake for nearly twenty-four hours, and if he drove straight to Kansas without any sleep, he knew he wouldn’t be of any use to Dean.  Castiel found a cheap hotel and paid for the room before settling down to sleep.  It was a rather restless sleep, deterred by the some of the first nightmares Castiel had had in years.  It was no longer the nightmares filled with thunder, but filled with endless scenarios of what was happening to Dean.

 

Blessedly, he did manage a few hours of sleep before setting off toward Kansas again.  It was afternoon, but he knew he could reach town before the next day started, as long as he didn’t run into too much traffic or other unforeseen problems.  The Impala’s engine rumbled under him, picking up speed once he’d stopped to refill the gas tank.  Other than the trip to Georgia, no one had driven the Impala any great distances.  The car mostly coasted around the streets of Boston, but out here on the highway, Castiel could tell this was the terrain the Impala preferred.  The ride was easy and the Metallica tape somewhat calming, and Castiel could almost forget why he was pushing the car so hard.  Almost.

 

When the sun set, Castiel turned on the headlights. The farther he drove, the more surroundings became recognizable.  It was only when he’d begun to pull into his hometown that he really thought about his situation.  He had no idea how he was going to outmatch Uriel.  It wasn’t that he was weak, but Uriel had more brute strength than he did, and Uriel had had years in prison to bulk himself up even more.  

 

Instead of driving straight for the house where he knew Uriel would be waiting, he took a detour away.  A sick feeling grew in his stomach when he turned in the opposite direction.  He knew Uriel was holding Dean captive, and the longer he delayed arriving, the greater chance of Dean being hurt, but he needed a plan first.  He couldn’t just charge in blindly and hope to send Uriel off balance.  Though, right now, that seemed like his best option.

 

It was eleven when he turned off the Impala’s engine on the dark pathway in the cemetery.  He was thankful for the few lights that lit the main path.  Castiel walked through the rows of stones until he came to the ones he wanted.  The large Novak family stone stood in the center with his parents’ names engraved underneath the family name.  Hester’s stone stood to the left of the family stone, while Anna’s stood to the right.  Castiel knelt before her stone.  It was the first time he’d come since the funeral.  He had never actually seen their stones placed.  Lightly he reached out and ran his fingers over one of the wings of an angel statue that someone had left beside her stone.  

 

“I am unsure of what to do, Anna,” he told the stone quietly.  He felt suddenly like he should have brought flowers with him.  That’s what people normally did when they visited graves, right?  “You always were the decision maker.  You’d know what to do.”  

 

Turning around, he leaned with his back against the headstone, facing the main thoroughfare where the Impala was parked.  The area was silent.  The birds were quiet for the night, and a few moths fluttered up high near the lights.  The street outside of the cemetery was quiet.  

 

He sat in the silence for long minutes.  “Dad used to keep a toolbox in the shed in the backyard,” Castiel finally, said sitting up a little straighter.  “There might be something in there I can use.”  Standing up, he turned back around to face Anna’s grave.  “Thank you,” he said softly before hurrying back over to the Impala.  He tore out of the cemetery as quickly as the sharp turns would allow and headed back toward the main street.

 

Three minutes later he was parked a block away from his old home.  The streets were quiet, street lights illuminating the pavement.  All the houses were dark, a few with lights of their own to brighten their lawns in the hopes of staving away intruders.  Castiel turned off the Impala and took a few deep breaths to make sure he was calm before pushing open the door and stealing down the street toward his destination.

 

A cat hissed somewhere in the distance while crickets chirped away into the darkness.  They stilled when he grew near before starting up their callings again.  Castiel slipped into the back lot without any trouble.  He was surprised to find the house lit up like a beacon in the night.  It looked like Uriel had turned on every light, but Castiel couldn’t see any shadows moving behind the curtains.

 

The lawn in the back was mowed to a manageable level, and Castiel silently thanked whichever neighbor had been kind enough to care for it.  He’d have to remember to find out and pay them for the care later.  If there was a later, that was.  It made it easier to walk over to the shed in the back.

 

The white paint had begun to flake from lack of care.  It had needed to be painted before Castiel had left, but no one had ever come around to actually doing it.  Now it looked as abandoned as the house was.  Castiel had to pull at the rusty latch until it finally turned.  The shed door opened without a sound, but the interior was like a black hole.  Castiel could only see in the first few inches from the light shining out from the house.  Everything else was darkness.  Cautiously Castiel entered.  The interior smelled like mowed grass, and he wondered if the neighbors had been using the lawn mower in here.  He hoped that no one had stolen anything.  Without anyone living in the house, everything had probably been open for the picking from any sort of thievery.

 

Groping around in the darkness, Castiel held back a curse when he ran into something large.  The mower, he realised upon closer inspection with his hands.   He knew the small tool stand his father had bought was just on the other side of the mower.  He reached across the riding mower to feel for the tool stand.  The wood was smooth under his touch when he finally found the top.  His hands skimmed over the surface until they collided with the metal tool box sitting on top.  Grasping the handle, he pulled it toward himself and took it with him into the lighted backyard.  

 

Staying as far into the darkness of the shed as he could while still being able to see, Castiel began to sort through the contents.  There was a box of nails and an identical box full of bolts and nuts.  There were a few different sized wrenches as well as some screwdrivers.  He took one of the small screwdrivers and stuffed it down into his pocket.  He was surprised - although relieved - to find a knife hidden down at the bottom.  

 

The knife wasn’t large and was only really designed for small jobs.  It was only a bit larger than a box cutter.  Castiel pushed the knife into his other pocket before leaving the rest of the useless items in the toolbox.  He looked up toward the house with an overwhelming feeling of grim determination.  He knew that not all of them were going to make it out of the house alive once he entered.  It was either going to be himself and Dean or Uriel.  

 

\--

 

Castiel opted to enter through the front door.  There were only two real options to begin with, the front or the back, and Castiel felt it would be too obvious to go through the back.  The front wasn’t a much better plan, but it seemed less predictable.  The door was unlocked just as Castiel had assumed.  The hallway was just as Castiel remembered it.  The hardwood floor was covered in a layer of dust.

 

All the curtains in the house were closed, and Castiel was surprised that everything was still where it had been left the last time he’d been in the house.  The television sat on the polished wooden stand and an empty vase of flowers stood on the coffee table.  The only thing missing from the living room was the couch where Hester had died.  

 

Making sure to keep quiet, Castiel continued down the hall toward the kitchen.  He paused after entering, feeling his chest clench horribly at the sight.  The white linoleum floor used to be washed once a week just like the rest of the house.  Every Sunday after church Anna always made sure everyone helped until the house was spotless.  Now, like the rest of the house, it hadn’t been cleaned in years.  Dust coated everything in a thick layer and without anyone living there, dark bloodstains had remained on the floor for years.  The red marks looked like a grotesque painting on the floor, smeared across the white linoleum.

 

Forcing his gaze away from the stains, he caught sight of Dean tied up at the far end of the table.  He’d been gagged and ropes secured his arms and legs so moving was near impossible.  His head was slumped to the side, but Castiel could tell from the rise and fall of his chest that he was still breathing.  There was a nasty bruise forming on Dean’s right cheek, and a cut over his left eye was caked with dried blood.

 

“Dean, hey, Dean.”  Castiel spoke quietly, urgently, patting Dean’s unbruised cheek with his free hand while he did so.  He pulled out the knife to cut through the ropes holding Dean down.    With his hands unbound, Dean fell forward against Castiel, head falling against Castiel’s shoulder.  “Wake up, Dean.”

 

Setting to work on Dean’s legs, Castiel glanced carefully at the door.  There had been no sign of Uriel yet, and that was beginning to worry him.  There had been no sound, no movement.  

 

  
“Cas?” Dean mumbled against his shoulder, and a wave of relief washed over Castiel.  The worry that had been clenching in his gut relaxed.  Dean’s head rolled against his shoulder until he managed to straighten himself up.  

 

  
“Damn,” Dean grumbled clutching at his head.  “What did that son of a bitch give me?”  Castiel finished sawing through the ropes around Dean’s ankles.  “Cas, why’re you here?  Where’re all the police?”

 

“I, uh, might have come alone.”

 

“You came alone?” Dean hissed quietly.  “What were you thinking?”  Dean reached down and rolled up his right pant leg.  “Damnit.  He took my gun.  Cas, you need to leave; let me handle this.”

 

“Dean, he has a _gun_.  I’m not just going to leave you here.”

 

“I’m a trained officer, Cas.  You need to leave, so I know you’re safe.”

 

“I’m not leaving, Dean.  This is between Uriel and myself.”

 

“You’re right about that, Castiel.  You’ll notice that I removed the knives this time.  I didn’t want to take any chances.”  Castiel turned to the sound of Uriel’s voice in the doorway.  The two of them hadn’t been this close together since the day they met in one of the interrogation rooms in Lawrence.  “I’m feeling rather generous today, Castiel.  My original plan was just kill you.  You are the one who put me in prison, after all, but I’m going to give you one more chance.”

 

“One more chance for what?”  Castiel asked.

 

Uriel came farther into the room, and he made a point of showing them the gun held tight in his right hand.  There was a light touch to Castiel’s shoulder while Dean’s other hand reached down to pull the small knife from Castiel’s hand.  “To join me, of course.”  Uriel stopped moving when he reached the opposite side of the table from them.  He laid his hands down against the wood, the gun clinking against the surface.  “We could do very well together.  See, the rest of our family was weak, but the two of us, we’re the strong ones, Castiel.  My friends, they’d be very happy to meet you.”

 

“See, I think he’ll pass.”  Dean stood abruptly, grabbing the edge of the table with both hands and pushing it forward, sending Uriel jolting back into the island behind him.  Uriel was caught off balance, gun sent out of his grip and across the floor.  Castiel bolted forward, catching it just as Dean pushed him through the doorway and back into the hall.

 

Uriel let out an outraged howl at being overtaken.  Castiel could hear the table sliding across the floor as Uriel pushed it away.  Scrambling to his feet, he reached for Dean’s hand.  Their fingers connected just before they were wrenched apart again.  Dean cried out in surprise, falling back down to the floor with a crack.  Uriel’s fingers were closed around Dean’s ankle as he yanked him back into the kitchen.

 

Castiel climbed to his knees and leveled his gun at Uriel, glad that he’d let Dean teach him to shoot during one of his visits.  Only, Castiel found a gun leveled against Dean as well.  Uriel had a grip locked around Dean’s neck.  Dean was sputtering and gasping as he tried to catch a lungful of air, while Uriel held a gun up against the side of his head.

 

“I brought insurance this time,” Uriel said with a smirk.  “Lower your gun, Castiel.”

 

“Don’t do it, Cas!” Dean gasped between breaths of air.  “Don’t!”

 

Uriel’s arm tightened around Dean’s windpipe until he began to choke.  “Let him go, Uriel!”  He could feel his strength of will wavering.  He couldn’t let Dean die!  He saw the way Dean’s eyes widened in anxiety when he saw Castiel lower the gun to the ground.  

 

“Now push it over here.”  Castiel slid the gun across the floor until he reached Uriel’s leg, well out of Castiel’s reach.  Uriel let out an annoyed growl when Dean used his last bit of strength and energy to kick the gun out of Uriel’s reach as well.  “I should kill you for that,” he snarled, and Castiel saw the way the gun pressed harder against the side of Dean’s head.

 

“Uriel!” Castiel called.  “I let go of the gun; now you let Dean go!”

 

“The deal’s changed.”  Uriel turned his gaze back toward Castiel.  “See how much he’s holding you back, Castiel?  You could have easily gotten away from me if he wasn’t here.  I used him as leverage against you.  He makes you weak.  Now I’m going to kill him for you.”  

 

Uriel’s finger tightened around the gun’s trigger.

 

Dean’s eyes darkened in grim acceptance.

 

Castiel felt like he was dying.

 

A gunshot echoed in the quiet of the abandoned house.

 

Castiel let out a cry of despair and lurched toward Dean.

 

Uriel’s body slumped forward.

 

The gun smacked the floor as it fell from Uriel’s slack grip.

 

Dean’s arms came up around Castiel when he buried his head against Dean’s chest.  “What just happened?”  Castiel’s fingers tangled in Dean’s shirt when he saw the blood begin to pool around the both of them.  In horror, Castiel glanced at Uriel’s fallen body.  His eyes stared sightlessly to the side, neck twisted at an odd angle, blood seeping through a gunshot straight through his neck.  The wound was great and blood was pooling quickly, soaking into both of their pants.

 

Castiel felt Dean’s chest rising and falling rapidly as he rested against him.  He was regaining his breath from the short supply that Uriel had been giving him.  “I’m not sure,” Dean rasped.  His voice sounded scratchy as if he had been coughing.  Arms tightening around Castiel, he twisted to look around the kitchen.  Castiel followed his gaze behind them to the glass sliding door in the back of the house.  The glass was spiderwebbed with cracks making it impossible to see into the black night of the backyard.  The cracks all originated from a single hole toward the right side of the glass.  

 

A bullet hole.

 

Less than a minute later uniformed officers were flooding into the house from both the front and the back doors.  Castiel could have cried from relief at the sight.  He tangled his fingers into Dean’s hair and buried his head into his shoulder, breathing in the comforting scent, knowing that the nightmare finally was over.

 


	9. Epiolgue

The birds outside were singing contently.  A breeze blew through the opened window and made the petals of the flowers in the vase on the table flutter.  The scent of the flowers mingled with the smell of cut grass outside.  A mower could still be heard in the distance.  The most prevalent sound, however, was the sound of two heart meters, not quite in sync with one another.

 

Two beds sat next to each other with only a small table in between.  Plastic guards were set up on both sides of both beds to keep the occupants from rolling out during sleep.  A green and white striped curtain was pushed off to the side, available if one of the occupants of the room needed their privacy.  Not that either of them wanted their privacy.

 

“Thank you for your time, gentlemen,” the marshal said before flipping his little notebook closed and heading out the door with his partner.  Once the two men had left and closed the door behind them, Dean turned his head to look across at Castiel in the bed next to his.  He reached across the small space between the two of them until Castiel met him halfway, and he could link their fingers together.  A smile spread across Dean’s lips, and Castiel returned it.

 

“Dad’s still got it in him,” Dean said with a smirk.  

 

“It would seem so.”

 

“I can’t believe that he walked into the office and told them he wasn’t in retirement anymore when he heard about what happened in Boston,” Dean said with a chuckle.  “He just doesn’t know when to quit.”

 

“If he hadn’t, we’d probably both be dead right now.  I don’t think anyone else would have realised the house was abandoned, and that’s where Uriel would have taken you.  He’s also the only one with the nerve to shoot through the glass door to kill Uriel.”

 

“Yeah.”  The smirk was still on Dean’s face when the door opened and John and Mary hurried in.  

 

“What were you thinking?” Mary demanded as she marched to Dean’s bed.

 

“Thinking?”

 

“Putting yourself in that kind of danger!  You need to be more careful, _both_ of you!”

 

Dean untangled their fingers.  “I’m fine, Mom.  We’re fine.”

 

“It wasn’t really their idea to be kidnapped, Mary,” John said calmly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.  Castiel saw the moment where she let the anger fade away to great relief.  He knew that the only reason she’d been angry was to keep herself from breaking down completely.  John pulled away and grabbed chairs from the side of the room, setting them down in the space between the two beds.

 

“We’re both fine.  Seriously, they could just release us.”

 

“You’ve been here less than a day; I think you can put up with it for longer,” John said.  

 

Dean muttered something about hospitals being stupid and how he was fine, but everyone else in the room ignored him.  Castiel didn’t mind being there.  Sure, for the most part the both of them were fine. Dean was a little scratched up, but he would heal. It was just nice to be able to relax after everything that had happened and know that life would be all right, just as Dean kept assuring him.

 

“They just get done with your briefing?” John asked.

 

“Yeah,” Dean answered.  “That was some mean shooting, Dad.”

 

John smiled.  “I like to think so.”

 

The door opened again, and Gabriel and Michael entered.  Gabriel was carrying a big basket of candy with him.  He bounced over to set the basket down next to the vase of flowers on the table between the two of them.  Michael was pulling up a chair at the side of Castiel’s bed.  “There’d be more in that,” Gabriel said, pointing at the basket, “but I ate most of it on the way here in worry.”  

 

Castiel smiled at his cousin.  “I wasn’t expecting you.”  He really hadn’t been.  He really hadn’t expected anyone to come visit them, especially not in the direct hours after the incident, but when he thought about it, that had been ridiculous thinking.

 

“All right, kiddo, when I said that you should go save your boyfriend over there, I meant, go with the police and stand back while they did all the work.  I didn’t mean completely avoid the police and try to do it all by yourself.”  Gabriel’s voice was joking, but Castiel could tell that the flippant demeanor was just a cover for the worry he’d been feeling.

 

Instead of pulling up a chair like everyone else had done, Gabriel set down the bedside guard and plopped down on the end of the bed.  

 

  
“Well, you know me, unexpected,” Castiel said.

 

“That is the exact opposite word I would use to describe you.”

 

“How has Sam been doing at school?” Michael asked John and Mary to change the subject.

 

That started a long conversation about the classes Sam was taking at Stanford.  Castiel was content to lean back against the bed and listen to everyone else talk.  An hour after Gabriel and Michael showed up, Sam and Jessica walked in.  Sam had been just as worried as everyone else, but it had taken him longer to find a plane to Kansas.  Soon enough he had assured himself that both Castiel and Dean were fine, and he was relaxing.

 

At nine o’clock, a nurse came in and said that visiting time was ending.  Mary gave Castiel and Dean both hugs - Sam did too, but he waited until everyone else had left the room.  John ushered Mary and Jessica out, Michael following behind the two of them.  Michael and John had been discussing what could be making the clunking sound under Michael’s car when he drove, and the discussion continued out the door.  Gabriel promised that they would be back as they’d booked a hotel room in town.  

 

When everyone had left, the nurse returned to check over all the instruments and make sure they were working properly before turning off the light and sending the room into darkness.  It wasn’t a complete darkness thankfully, the lights from the whirling equipment casting a glow in the room.  Castiel’s head turned to the side to watch Dean in the bed beside him.  Except Dean wasn’t lying down.  Instead he was sitting up and pulling all the wires out on the equipment.

 

“Dean!” Castiel snapped.  “What are you doing?”

 

“I was kidnapped not all that long ago, driven all the way to Kansas, and held at gunpoint,” Dean said as if he was just stating facts.  “I think I deserve to let loose a little.”  He climbed out of his own bed and over to Castiel’s.  He pulled back the sheets and slipped in.  “Look, Cas,” Dean said in exasperation at the worried look in Castiel’s eyes, “all I’ve got is a bruise and a few scratches.  I think I’ll live without a heart monitor checking on me.”  

 

Castiel still didn’t feel quite comfortable with it until Dean gently kissed away his worries.  They both laid on their sides, Dean’s hand coming up to rest against Castiel’s cheek.  He ran his thumb up over the cheekbone soothingly.  Castiel gasped into Dean’s mouth when one of Dean’s legs came to tangle between his own.  

 

Immediately they were interrupted when a troop of nurses burst through the door with a cart and turned on the lights.  Castiel noticed just then the way Dean’s monitor was buzzing in a flat line.  He felt a blush creeping up his cheeks while Dean twisted around to give them a cheeky smile.  

 

  
“Ladies.  Care to join us?”  Castiel hissed his name warningly, but Dean just chuckled.  

 

“What’s going on in here?”

 

“Cas here was choking, so I decided to give him mouth-to-mouth.”

 

“Mr. Winchester,” one of the nurses said sharply.  “You need to return to your own bed.”  She went over to the monitor and began tapping at the computer until it turned off.  The rest of the nurses began to file back out of the room, but instead of looking angry, most of them seemed more amused than anything.  They were whispering to each other and smiling over at Castiel’s shared bed.

 

“All right, Major Houlihan, I’ll get in that bed, but the moment you leave I’m getting right back out, so you think we can skip all that?”  Dean stretched out along the bed while the nurse’s lips pursed.  Castiel became painfully aware of the leg still tangled snuggly with his own under the sheets.

 

“This is against hospital regulations.”

 

“Live a little.”

 

“Mr. Winchester -”

  
“Look.  My boyfriend and I were both held at gunpoint today.  I think you can make an exception,” Castiel snapped.  The nurse seemed rather taken aback.  She’d been with them since they’d been admitted, and she seemed to think that Castiel was the more docile of the two of them, which, honestly, he probably was.  However, with all the adrenaline he’d expelled today along with the way Dean was pressed up against him, Castiel was growing rather impatient, especially when he knew that any attempts on the nurse’s part to keep them separated at this point were futile.

 

With a small nod, the nurse agreed.  “Just for tonight,” she said warningly, “and it’s a secret between the three of us.”  Castiel and Dean agreed to that, and she left them alone, shutting the door quietly behind her.

 

A pleased smile on his lips, Dean turned back to him.  “Marry me now,” he said, pressing kisses against Castiel’s jaw.  “You’re hot when you’re being all authoritative.”  One of Dean’s feet pressed down against one of Castiel’s own, rubbing gently.  Castiel hummed softly against Dean’s lips when they met again.  Castiel’s fingers reached up to tangle in Dean’s hair.

 

The kissing continued lazily for a few minutes.  Castiel was more than content to just lay his head against Dean’s chest and draw figures against his arm while Dean’s fingers combed through his hair in a soothing motion.  “You know, if you really do marry me, you should probably tell your parents,” Castiel informed Dean.

 

“Nah.  We’ll just get married.  Maybe invite Sammy and Gabriel.  Or we could just have it be the two of us.  My parents would never notice.”  Castiel knew that Dean was joking, well, for the most part.  

 

Castiel sat up suddenly, dislodging their comfortable position.  “We were holding hands in front of them.”  He looked down at Dean seriously.  At the look of confusion, he elaborated.  “When your parents walked into the room earlier, we were holding hands.  Our briefing had just ended, and you reached across the bed, then your parents walked in.  Maybe they already know.”

 

“Or they didn’t notice,” Dean reasoned.

 

“Or they _don’t care._ ”

 

“Or they didn’t notice,” Dean repeated.  “C’mon, Cas,” Dean added tiredly, “let’s not talk about this.”  

 

  
Castiel wanted to talk about it more, because he wanted the Winchesters to know, and he was fairly certain that Dean was overreacting about telling them, but he let the topic rest anyway.  He let Dean arrange them into a more comfortable position.  That apparently constituted Dean sprawling out on top of him, propped up with elbows on either side of Castiel’s chest.

 

Dean’s fingers toyed with the ties on Castiel’s gown before undoing the knot.  “Dean!” Castiel exclaimed when Dean began to peel the gown away.  He reached out to catch Dean’s arm to stop him, but Dean gently nudged his protesting arm away.

 

“Relax.  You’ve got boxers on.  It’s not anything I haven’t seen before.”  Dean said it so dismissively, as if it didn’t matter, but Castiel still felt his cheeks lighting up in embarrassment.  Fingers trailed over Castiel’s upper thighs, dangerously close to his boxers, making him whimper.  Arousal shot through him like a drug, but he forced the feeling down before he did something he’d regret.  Like tugging off the last remaining piece of his clothing.

 

Despite his better judgment, Castiel reached around to pull off Dean’s gown as well, so they were on a more even playing field.  More lazy kisses were exchanged while Dean’s fingers ran lightly over skin, twirling around Castiel’s nipples until he whimpered.  Dean chuckled back a reply, while Castiel grounded himself by pressing his fingers into Dean’s shoulders.

 

When Castiel felt his eyes begin to drift shut involuntarily, Dean returned himself to his side, pressing more kisses along Castiel’s shoulder.  “Go to sleep, Cas,” Dean chuckled when he noticed how hard Castiel was trying to keep his eyes open and return Dean’s affection.  “You’ve seriously been awake for nearly three days.”  Castiel just nodded in agreement, turning on his other side so that he could press his back against Dean’s chest.

 

Dean’s smile was warm against his neck, breath tickling against the short hairs there as they pressed together.  One of Dean’s arms went over Castiel’s waist to pull him in tight, protectively, their legs tangled together.

“Get plenty of sleep because we’re going to have to put up with everybody all day tomorrow.”  Castiel could hear the weariness in Dean’s voice over that prospect, but knew he was happy about it at the same time.  They were rarely all able to be at the same place at the same time with all their lives moving so quickly.  He hummed in agreement.

 

Just before falling asleep, Castiel thought about Anna and Hester.  He thought about the day they’d all gone to the zoo, the way Hester had been so excited, practically bouncing in the backseat next to Castiel while Anna drove with Uriel next to her in the passenger seat.  At the time, Castiel never would have guessed what was going to become of his family, that he’d lose them all.

 

  
But that didn’t mean he didn’t have a family, because he had a new family now.  He had an even bigger family with Sam and Jessica, John and Mary, Michael and Gabriel, and Dean, especially Dean.  Castiel wouldn’t forget about Anna and Hester; he wouldn’t stop missing them, but it did make it hurt less to know that he had a great family waiting for him, even if they weren’t perfect.  Dean’s arm tightened around Castiel, pulling him just a little bit closer, and Castiel smiled knowing there’d be no nightmares that night.

 


End file.
